A girl worth fighting for
by PaintedFireLady
Summary: In a world without Avatar, finally in peace after the Fire Nation surrendered, Katara and her family live peacefully as refugees in an Earth Kingdom small town. But when a new threat is looming over the newfound balance of her family and the whole world, Katara will have to make the most important decision of her life in order to protect all she's left to love.
1. Prologue

**Pairing(s):** Zutara; possible hints to other pairings (but you'll have to wait and see!)

 **Genre:** Adventure, Family, Angst, Romance

 **Rating:** K+ (mostly conforming to the movie's rating, though there might be a little more violence now and then)

 **Hi everyone! So, this is the first story I ever publish, so don't be too hard on me, haha. It's a Mulan-ish story set in the world of Avatar, taking place in an alternate universe where the war started by the Fire Nation ended without the Avatar and the world lives in peace. Please mind that I'm not a native english speaker; so it would be helpful and MUCH appreciated to receive some criticism especially on the language, which I hope is at least decent here. I'm working hard to improve my english writing, and this is a good way to learn :) so don't hesitate to point out all my grammar and vocabulary mistakes and misunderstandings (I'm afraid you might find some, ugh).**

 **Also, this story is Zutara. But it's also about Katara as a character, her family, and the world they live in. In other words, this fic is not 100% pairing centered, even though the romance is always there, more subtly at times. However, I already have the sequel planned out (based on Mulan II, obviously!).**

 **If you have any question, or you want to check my art or anything, you can find me on tumblr (I am paintedfirelady even there!).**

 **Either way, I just really hope you enjoy this!**

 **p.s.: I think it would be quite useful, to read this story, to check the Avatar world map once in a while. To find the map I took as a reference, check the links in my bio!**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters or the world of _Avatar: the Last Airbender_. Credits belong to Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante Di Martino. _Mulan_ belongs to Disney.

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

The night could be surprisingly cold in the woods around Ba Sing Se. Nothing like the Poles, of course. Chen knew that. And he also knew that being a soldier implied much more than complaining about the cold.

Spring was already in bloom, and yet, that part of the Earth Kingdom had been left out from the mild and warm winds of the season. The sky was black and somehow it had a metallic glow about its black surface–and that had little to do with stars. It felt like it was heavier than usual.

Around the bastion, the forest showed a sinister look; and fog covered the mountains towering over the other side of the river, making it impossible to see through the distance. That river coursed around the base of the bastion, and its constant, thundering sound would only get even more annoying for a man who had to listen the whole night. The full moon had nothing reassuring either– her round, flat, pale face stared boringly at the landscape, its silver light cold and dull; and Chen was suddenly afraid of old spirit stories from his childhood.

He held his spear tighter, and forced himself to look right ahead, and not up in the sky. What a stupid thought—he had to focus on his job. A few hours left ahead, he was in charge until dawn. Usually, his eyes would barely even blink when he took the watch at the bastion and he didn't want to distract himself even now.

His mind was about to clear up, when a flashing light coming from below caught his attention. His eyes rushed down below the walls, and then up to his comrades along the wall. They all heard that sound—it was a thud, an unmistakable sound of something huge crackling and then rising up against gravity. Like _earthbending_.

Moving in unison, Chen and all the soldiers along the wall stomped their feet and lifted their hands. Massive piles of solid rock came up from the ground ahead and behind the bastion. But before their hands could wave together and pull forward, their rocks were completely frozen, and one moment later there were hundreds of cannonballs and daggers revolving towards them. Suddenly, sharp ice and earth were everywhere.

Chen saw his comrades fall off the wall, be pinned on the ground by those daggers with their cloaks—if they were lucky it wasn't in their flesh—unable to move and fight those incredibly fluid monsters of ice and rock; then he noticed that those monsters were covering his feet and legs fast. But something creeped him out more than anything—he noticed how some of them just seemed to fall on their knees without even being touched. He shook his head to focus and moved faster, calling up as much earth as he could, and fighting with all his might.

Until he felt his own body _stop._ And then _he knew_ there was no way to fight it. He fell helplessly on the ground, his face looking straight ahead, his eyes never blinking. A few moments later he was completely wrapped up and he felt the cold sting on his skin, the rocks crunching his body in a grasp that seemed to grow suffocating. Chen tried to bend the earth inside, but only then did he realize he couldn't reach beyond the ice.

And then he saw them—they stood on grass and earth plates suspended around the top of the walls. He wasn't able to see them clearly, though, until they jumped heavily on the bastion right in front of where he lied, and the stone wall trembled under the weight of those men landing on a line, all at the same time.

They were huge men, like no other you could see in the Earth Kingdom, or anywhere else in the world. Their wide shoulders and chests were covered with animal fur, along with their heads—not unlike Water Tribe soldiers—while their arms and feet were bare, and Chen somehow found a way to wonder how they could bear the cold. Their skin was olive-colored, their jaws incredibly large and squared.

Their clothing was raw, savage, almost _primitive_. Nothing like the people from any of the four nations for sure. They held shields and spears, but they were benders, too. And sure enough, they could do things no one had ever seen before.

One of them stepped ahead, and he was right in front of Chen. He had to be the leader, Chen thought, because his fur and armor were slightly different and richer than the others. At a sign of his hand, all the other warriors stopped instantly. Then again, not a guard would have made a move to attack them anyway.

Chen shivered. That man looked frightening from down on the ground where he was, and he was looming right in front of him and looking right down at him.

Then Chen heard something crack, and almost shrieked in horror when he saw the whole wall quickly freeze around him, and crumble on the ground a few moments later. All that was left now was a small patch where the invaders and _he_ stood.

A spear fell dangerously close to his neck. Chen swallowed, and then he saw the chief lean towards him. He suddenly felt his body break free again, and he gave out a breath, because he was slowly choking in the grasp of his ice coat.

"Get up, soldier" the man said mockingly, and Chen boldy stood up. "We need you."

"What do you want?" Chen asked abruptly, looking into the man's eyes.

The warrior leant closer with a hideous grin on his face. "We have a message to deliver to your king."

* * *

The door slammed open in the face of the guard who had been ordered to open it. General Hao burst in, two soldiers following him on both his sides, and walked across the whole throne room in a few seconds, not even bothering to worry about manners.

The old king stood up, and his wrinkled face was suddenly grave and cold.

"Your Majesty" the general said, bowing in a hurry "the fortress around the forest has fallen during the night."

"Who?" the old king asked. His serious concern was something rare to be seen on his otherwise loony, grinning face.

"We don't know who they are, Sire" the General replied. His voice was steady, his frown harsh and unafraid, sturdy as a rock. "Invaders. _Savages_. We don't know where they come from. But a few of them brought down the whole wall along the edges of the northernmost provinces, and they're not going to stop. More of them are coming, they said. They call themselves the Shuang Xue Warriors. They wanted you to know—they're headed for Ba Sing Se." The general pursed his lips before adding, "And that will be just the beginning."

The king's face remained plain. "Earthenders, aren't they? There's no other way they could bring the wall down in one night."

"They're earthbenders, Sire—but they have waterbenders, too. They're nothing like other benders in the world. They have found a way to combine both bendings and fight together in a way we've never seen."

" _Combined_ bending, you say. Very interesting."

"But that's not it, my king" the general said, a little hesitant this time "there's one more thing. They appear to have a power that... We don't know how, if that's related to bending, but all those who survived the attack said at some point they felt their bodies crack and suddenly slip out of their own control. Like a force had taken over them. _Bending_ them. And eventually, breaking them."

The king flinched and stood in silence for a while, until the general wondered if he was even listening anymore. "The moon is full tonight, general" the old man said suddenly.

"Yes" the general replied, confused. He was used to the king talking nonsense sometimes, but not in times like this.

"The moon is full tonight."

A pause followed. The king paced back and forth on the dais on which his throne lied, mumbling to himself.

Then, interrupting his lucubrations abruptly, the king summoned a servant, asking him to wake the keeper of the palace library. Another silence followed after the servant left.

"Did they tell you where they come from, General Hao?" he finally said.

"They didn't mention that, but the only place we can think of is the mountain chain across the forest."

"Those mountains? It's... it's impossible for them to host human life. There's a glacier up there, and the sharpest icy cliffs. How..."

"I don't have a clue, Your Majesty. But" and the general finally got up on his feet" we must act as soon as we can. As far as we know they might have crossed the river fork even now and they will probably follow its course down until they reach the Capital. We can't afford any hesitation, if I am allowed to say so."

The king stood in silence, and the General's expression didn't falter for a moment under the old man's stare. "Do you have a plan, general?" he finally asked in halteur.

"Sort of, Sir." The general stepped ahead. "I have guessed they won't actually move across the river before they are sure they will find no obstacles when they approach the city. If it's true they've been living on the Northern mountains all this time, then they will do anything they can to bring our armed forces there, where they can easily defeat us. Their bending technique is something our soldiers just can't take up there. I suggest we let them trace us and bring them down to the forest, away from the city, and start the fight there, in more equal conditions."

"You have a point, general" the old king said "but that would mean relying on conjectures too much. We really don't have a proof to say they're bluffing."

"Your Majesty, I..."

"General Hao, these are my orders. We must set our troops along the line of the river, where they attacked. Cover our borders with our best benders. Make them chase the invaders as soon as they can."

"But Sire" the General intervened in a sharp tone, trying to keep his face and tone neutral "that's _suicidal._ "

"We can't afford being wrong and letting them get closer to the Capital. If they make it to the walls, which they can easily penetrate, then it's a catastrophe for the whole Earth Kingdom. And it might be for the rest of the world, as well. We need to warn the other Nations. _Long Feng!_ "

"Your Majesty." The dark, slimy figure of the king's best man peered from the shadow, stepping in. The General had no idea he had been in the room the whole time.

"Long Feng. Bring some of your best men here, immediately. We have a urgent message to be delivered, and it must be done discreetely" the king said.

"Consider it done, Your Majesty. But, if I can just speak my humble op-"

"Just spit it out, Long Feng" the king said abruptly, with a flapping gesture of his knobbly hands.

"As you wish, your Majesty. This kind of enemy requires a lot of power we don't have. Defending our own borders won't be enough—it will take more than the best earthbenders in the nation to overcome this. They must be _crushed—_ permanently _._ An enemy the likes of this is far more than any nation _alone_ could take. This is why I think we must fight in a way we've never fought before, just like they're doing."

The king raised his bristly white brow.

"We'll have to alarm the whole world and get all the remaining nations to fight _with us_ " Long Feng concluded after a brief pause.

The general startled, his eyes widened. "Sir, do you have an idea what you're even saying?"

"Judging by the little we know of these... Shuang Xue Warriors, we might be facing the worst threat we encountered after almost ten years of peace among the nations." The secretariat was going on with his speech, totally ignoring the general. "There's a new unknown civilization we knew nothing about—and they're hostile, dangerous, and willing to get the upperhand on our lands and destroy our civilizations. All nations should be concerned—the mountains are close to the North Pole, and right after they take Ba Sing Se and the Earth Kingdom, the Water Tribe could be the next step."

The king kept his hunched back turned on both the men, pondering silently. The General stepped in again. "Your Majesty, on my honor, I must say this is completely _foolish_ and inconsiderate and _dangerous_. How can we trust the Fire Nation after-"

"Long Feng is right" the old king said, suddenly turning around with a quirky smile that somehow felt out of place. "We must form an _alliance_. Our army alone is not enough to fight this."

"I beg to differ, Your Majesty. _My_ army..."

 _"Your army_ can barely take these... _mountainbenders_ , general. Nonetheless, we don't even know what else they're capable of with these mysterious powers. True, this is a challenge we've hardly ever met, and I can tell, these are enemies that won't let us win easily. Since we've lost the Avatar forever" the king sighed "our world lost its most powerful strenght—unity. But this might be our chance to prove that if we join our elements against the same common enemy, we can _still_ win. And believe me," the king laughed "I have lived enough to know that it's times like these we all need to think like a _mad genius._ " His wizened face melted down in what looked like a crooked smile, and his teeth uncovered to let out a weird sounding laugh. The general pursed his lips and hung his head. He knew king Bumi well enough to know nothing would work to dissuade him.

"Long Feng" the king said, and the secretariat stopped halfway out the door, already heading out. "I want the responses from the three nations here with their relative delegations within noon. And, make sure Fire Lord Ozai accepts the command of the mission. He has the best army in the world."

"Fire Lord?" The General's mutterings were aimed at himself only, at this point.

"Anything else, your Majesty?" Long Feng asked.

"Yes!" the king burst out again in crazy excitement, before his face got suddenly serious. "I want a troop of new recruits."

"New recruits?" the General shook his head in disbelief once again.

" _Deliver conscription notices through our whole kingdom. Call up reserves and as many new recruits as possible. Even the slightest grain of rice can tip the scales. A single man can make the difference._ "


	2. Chapter I - Blossoms

**_Chapter I_ – Blossoms**

* * *

Steam still filled the room and surrounded the bed, when a tiny strip of tea came out winding from the scalding pot on the ground.

"Here, little wisp. Let's see if I can bring you right... here!"

The little string of tea that graciously flew above her head started freezing in a crooked spiral between her hands, and Katara was about to give out a little squeal of joy, when she noticed it was melting again in the blink of an eye. And it poured right over the sheets of her bed.

"Oh, come on!" she muttered. Right then and there, the morning sun creaking through her window made her mind shift back to reality. "Right! It's time to go!"

Katara threw her feet on the ground, grabbed her long tunic and boots, and ran out of her room. Of course, she had forgotten. That was the one day she had to finish her chores before eight in the morning, and the one day she had chosen to forget about it, too caught in practicing her bending.

She quickly ran across the kitchen and grabbed a steaming pot and a teacup and a tray, all this without even slowing her pace, and rushed out to the garden, hoping the porcelain wouldn't tragically crash onto the ground.

Suddenly she smashed into something—someone—slender and steady. Her eyes flashed in terror when she saw the tray fly out of her hands for just one second. But Sokka's reflexes were quick; he grabbed the tray and the teacup just in time and fixed it back in her strong hold. "Good morning, sister."

"Sokka! Sorry, I'm just—where's Dad?"

"He's sitting by the pond, like... medidating or something. I thought he was losing his mind but I, uhm, sort of understand it, now. What's wrong, Katara?" he asked, grabbing her shoulder to stop her, since she was already walking past him, "You look terrible today—and what's that in your hair?"

Katara snorted. "Thanks, Sokka. Look, I'm late. I should be on my way down to the village now."

Her brother sighed. "Katara, listen to me, just one second." He put on his serious older brother face. "I realize you must be quite upset today. And that you're still willing to do this although you don't like this whole thing _at all_. But... our family is pretty much all that's left of our people. You know how Dad cares about you and he just doesn't want you to ever be left on your own. So please, just... don't mess up."

"Have I ever let Dad down?" Katara asked, looking her brother straight in the eye. "I know how important this is to him. I know he just wants... he just wants _the best_ for me. And I'm not going to fail him, or you, or Gran-Gran, or anyone" She smiled faintly. "I promise."

Sokka curled his mouth. "Yeah, when you talk like that, I guess I should trust you." He let go of her. "Go kick butts, little sis'!"

Katara smiled at him and turned away, but after a few steps she stopped again. "Oh! Sokka!"

Her brother turned to look at her. "Yes?"

"Would you mind doing the chores _for me_ today? Please?" she asked in a tiny voice, wearing her nicest smile.

Her brother sighed again. "Okay, okay. Just because it's late. But do me a favor—fix your hair as soon as you can. I'm serious."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Thanks again, Sokka. You truly know how to make a girl feel better," she smirked above her shoulder.

"Anytime, Katara. Good luck!" he shouted back, watching her turn the corner of the house to the garden. "You're going to need it for this day" he sighed bitterly, muttering to himself this time.

* * *

Katara had to slow down abruptly before nearing the small pagoda in their garden, seeing how absorbed in his thoughts her father was.

He sat in the middle of its circular plant, legs crossed, elbows on his knees, head down. His wide shoulder line didn't flick slightly at the sound of her step.

"Dad?" she asked timidly after questioning herself whether she should disturb him or not. "I brought you some tea."

Hakoda lowered his head and then slowly got up. Katara almost rushed to help him, before she remembered her hands were busy with the tray. She saw her father turning to her with a smile on his face, and couldn't help but smiling back. But she could see something undefinable through the lines on his face, that looked suddenly deeper that day. Like new flowing rivers had carved their banks overnight on that still juvenile face.

"How is your leg today?" she asked all of a sudden, as if she wanted to shake those thoughts out of her mind. After all, that leg injury, an injury her father got years earlier while still leading his men against the Fire Nation navy, had marked him and somehow changed him, made him imperceptibly distant and sadder than before; and Katara couldn't deny that it did affect her brother and herself, and their lives, in a way.

"Fine, like always, my dear" he said lovingly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

She lowered her gaze while placing the tray on the ground. "You're lying."

"And you worry too much" he smiled, his hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for the tea."

"You don't have to thank me. The doctor said ginseng tea every morning is always the best cure. Reinforces your bones and warms your blood and spirit. Remember?" she said cheerfully, careful not to look him in the eye, while she filled the cup and handed it to her father.

"Okay, but it doesn't matter. I'll be fine anyway, you know." Despite this, he brought the cup to his lips and sipped anyway.

Katara sighed, and smiled, at last. "Sometimes I wonder how you can be more stubborn than Sokka."

"Where do you think you _both_ got it?"

"I'm not being stubborn. Not when it comes to being careless about one's health. The healers said your injury-"

Hakoda laughed, interrupting her. "Katara, please, you need to feel your age for just one day. It's your special day."

Katara lowered her gaze to the ground. "Yes. My special day. Sorry, dad. I guess I'm just... tense."

"Are your ready for your appointment?"

"Yeah, I'm-I'm working on it. Gran-Gran is waiting for me in the village, I guess I will need a little tidying and polishing and-" she paused abruptly, "about this _fortuneteller_ thing..."

She stopped and sighed. Something started hurting in her throat. Something she had to say. "It's... nothing. I'm just nervous." She paused a moment, her eyes low. "I'm not sure about everything. If someone can predict my future... that doesn't mean I necessarily want to follow". She looked up at him, a little timidly.

"Katara" her father sighed, his kind blue eyes staring at her. "Listen to me. There comes a time in the life of a girl when she has to make a choice. I won't be here forever. Sokka might not be here forever. I want you to be _safe,_ like every other father here _._ This fortune-teller has always helped people in this village—and she can help you too. But I want you to know nothing she'll say will determine your destiny. Katara," he paused, and he got incredibly serious, "I will never force you into marrying someone. Whatever happens today—take it as just a _sign_ pointing at something."

Finally, he smiled again, and Katara bit her lip. She almost wanted to tell him that was not the point. She almost told him that a life like that wasn't really what she wanted at all. She wanted to say that maybe knowing that _sign_ would frighten and disarm her, a little.

But she didn't. And at last she just nodded, with a faint smile.

Her father raised his brow. "And by the way, tell your grandmother you don't need any polishing. Your face is by far the prettiest. You're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen, and I'm sure you will become an even more beautiful woman."

Katara shook her head and laughed. "Come on, dad, you're getting emotional. Besides, you're biased."

Hakoda laughed loudly. "I might be, just a little. After all, sometimes I realize my little girl is all grown up." He paused, looking at her, then something occurred to him. "Now—what time is it? Aren't you supposed to be at the village at nine?"

Katara startled and her eyes popped open. "Gosh—I know! I mean—Yes, I'm... I have to go!

She ran out of the pagoda almost stumbling down the steps, and her father watched her rush down the hill and disappear over the walls of their house. The village was a ten minute walk away and she was already late.

* * *

"Kanna, where is your grand-daughter? I thought she should be here by now. It's nine fifteen."

The old woman switched her grey eyes on her friend, standing on the dais in front of the house. "She's coming, Lue. Have a little patience, for spirits' sake."

"If you say so" Lue sighed, and stepped back through the doorway.

"There she is" Kanna said suddenly with a grin, and Lue stopped where she stood. "I told you she was coming."

In fact, Katara _was_ coming. She was right on the other side of the street, all drenched in sweat, and her hair ruffled. But the streets of Makapu were busy and bustling in the morning, and that happened to be the main road of the village. She waved at her grandmother and walked through the traffic, but didn't see a man who seemed to carry a heavy load on his back was coming her way, and they ended up crashing into each other in a burst of clanging metal and milk pouring on the ground, before they could realize it.

Kanna brought a hand to her forehead.

Katara jerked on her knees and rushed towards the man, who was still lying on the ground. She saw a dozen bottles shattered on the ground and part of the milk they carried all spilled on the ground. "Oh, no—Sorry, this is all my-"

"You careless little... _brat_ , wandering about the street when there are people _working!"_ The man barked, his face deformed in a look of pure hate. "Look what you've done!"

Katara's face went livid all of a sudden and her ocean blue eyes flashed in outrage. She dropped the milk she was in the process of bending back from the ground. "Excuse me for helping you, sir. I'll put your precious milk back where it was."

And as she said so, the few bottles that were still upright fell down and spilled all the remaining milk on the street. "My fresh milk _"_ he cried in despair "that's a _catastrophe_! I'll have to go take it back on the other side of the hill!"

"Let that be a lesson for being such a gentleman!"

She left him behind without looking back, still frowning, and crossed the street to end up in front of her grandmother, her arms crossed. "Good morning, Gran-Gran. Sorry for the wait."

Her Gran-Gran shook her head and smiled, examining her granddaugher from top to toe. Her hands and gown were dirty with dust and milk, and her blue kimono tunic was crooked and too loosely tied. Her curly brown hair was down—Katara couldn't find time to braid it—and tangled in a frightful mess of knots that would take a relevant amount of time and pain to unravel. On her neck, her mother's necklace shined as always, almost merging with her skin.

"You're such a bad-tempered child, aren't you?" the old woman said as a mild reprimand, while holding the girl's shoulders. She might have been mad, but Katara knew her grandma would never scold her for putting a boorish man back in his place. "And bad at timing, too, I'd say. Come, let's not waste any more time. We're going to fix you up a little."

"First, let's get you cleaned up" Lue said with a smile, while guiding them both inside. "Let me have a look."

Katara was busy looking around, so she didn't notice the brisk old woman had appeared right in front of her, and she gasped when she felt fingers in her hair and a smart, pondering gaze pinning on her face and clothes.

"Well, well, well," she said, at last "I've seen much worse, after all. But we sure got a long way to go..."

"Wait—I don't think that's necessary, Lue" Katara objected politely. "Aunt Wu receives people every day and-"

"But this is a rite of passage, child" Lue replied, almost offended with her hesitancy. "Here in Makapu, it is believed that good looks bring good omen. This is a special day for girls in this village and you don't want to make a poor figure, do you?"

"No, but... the dress, the hair, the make-up—isn't it all a little _too much?"_ Katara tried to say. "I don't think I-"

"Oh, come on. Just a bath, we'll untangle your hair, and we'll get you something decent to wear. You won't even notice, believe me. Come, let's turn you into a lady."

At this point it was hard to find a way to object. And as the bather dragged her by her wrist to a fancy shield before she could even gape, Katara found a piece of mind to wonder whether that had to be taken as a compliment or not. Either way, she couldn't think of an answer, because suddenly her clothes slipped off her skin without her even touching it, and it was too late to protest, anyway; she could only shriek when she literally felt her body splash inside a wooden tub, full of foamy _ice cold water._

"Are you kidding me? It's _freezing!"_ she finally caught her breath to protest, while still trembling in the tub.

"You call _that_ freezing?" Gran-Gran replied with an amused smile, while Lue was pouring some lotion over Katara's wet head. "Back in _my_ day, a Water Tribe girl would have paid _gold_ to have such a bath."

"Yeah—you forget I left the poles ten years ago" Katara said through her teeth, too focused on not moving in the icy water—it _was_ cold, no matter what Gran-Gran said.

"Don't be easy on her, Lue" Gran-Gran said, "she _really_ needs a little lesson on that."

After the bath, hairdressing was next. Katara found herself sitting on her knees, in a pretty room with birch parquet and pink orchids on every shelf and a huge white glass wall behind her back. She could as well enjoy the peacefulness of that room, if only she hadn't had two quite talkative women all bustled around her, one on each side; and she felt their hands working on her head and messing with her hair, pulling, curling, pinching and tying, unable to _see_ them doing that, which was way frustrating for her. Still, she abid everything and waited patiently to see the result. She absent-mindedly heard the women chatter around her head—she caught something about a war, and hundreds of boys fighting for her—but she didn't listen. When they handed her a little round mirror, she gasped. She wasn't sure if she liked it, and she wasn't given the time to see it all, but the glimpse she'd caught reassured her they managed to fit her signature loopies in her hairstyle, and she smiled in relief.

Hair done, it was time for the _dress._ She followed Gran-Gran out in the streets. She had to speed up her pace in order to catch up with Gran-Gran and Lue, but then something stopped her: a little girl had her rag doll stolen by two young boys, playing with their wooden swords. At that sight, a blurry reminescence of Sokka and her playing in the yard passed before her eyes; and she just had to bow down and swipe the doll away from the boy's hand, and give it back to the little girl, who hugged her toy and looked at her in awe. This, before Katara was grabbed by the arm and dragged away in a few seconds.

The dressmakers were better than she expected. Even the few times they accidentally pinned needles into her skin—it was not their fault, she thought as she held her breath—or almost choked her when tightening the belt on her waist.

Before she could see herself, she was sent straight to the final part—the make-up session. It was again the uncomfortable feeling of being touched and pulled and pinched and painted without her having a clue of what was happening to her face. Despite that, she was still looking forward to see the result; she had never worn any make-up before. And when she was given a mirror, she had to admit her blue eyes contrasted the crimson red of her lips quite nicely, with the black paint along her lids, and long black lashes shadowing over. If anything, the make-up was utterly soft and delicate.

At this point, Katara allowed herself to look in the tall mirror on her right. Her hair, parting from the middle of her forehead, were tied back in a loose, thick top-knot, with a pale pink flower behind her neck. On both sides, her loopies fell nicely, framing her face.

Her long white pettycoat touched the ground, covered with several layers: she wore a pale blue gown, with embroidered hems; a kimono-like vest with long and large sleeves, the same color of her Water Tribe clothes, shaped in the Earth Kingdom fashion; around her waist, over the shirts and gowns, a tight sash with a huge bow on the back; and an additional blood red belt. She carried a long red ribbon which was supposed to twirl around her arms, falling on her back. A pair of white pearl earrings had been added somewhere during the make-up session.

All this was far more than Katara had requested or imagined, and though it made her uncomfortable and eerily nervous, nevertheless she couldn't help staring at her own reflection.

"Here. You are ready" Gran-Gran said, as she neared and took her face in her hands gently.

Katara smiled. "You mean _almost_ ready." She opened her fist, unfurling her light blue charm with waves carved on its stone. "Help me tie it up, Gran-Gran."

The old woman smiled warmly and bound the blue ribbon behind her granddaughter's neck. "Look at my little waterbender. As beautiful as the moonlight on the sea." Katara looked at herself in the mirror, and she couldn't lie to herself that she liked what she saw.

"You look just like your mother on the day of her bethrotal" her Gran-Gran said from behind her shoulder. "Ah, that Kya. A beautiful girl for sure."

Katara lowered her eyes and her fingers found their way up to her necklace. "I wish she was here."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Katara felt an old, bony hand get a solid grasp on her shoulder. "She _is_ here."

Katara smiled at her grandmother's apparent sour tone, and bit her lip. Then she turned abruptly towards her and hugged her tight, so much that at some point she feared she could break her. "Sorry, Gran-Gran" she muttered.

The old lady, as a response, reinforced her grasp. "What are you talking about?" she said. "I am stronger than you and your brother altogether, you know. And now—move on, little lass. We've got a matchmaker waiting."

* * *

 **A/N: So here we are again. I wish I had been able to update earlier, but I'm on vacation so I haven't had a lot of time recently! Anyway, this was the** **first actual chapter. I'm a little nervous because this is where we get to introduce Katara and her family. I hope I made a decent job :P also, there are a few things about their life in the Earth Kingdom that might be a little confusing. As you see, they live in Makapu (and you will understand later on how they got there). I've had them living in the Earth Kingdom for a series of narrative reasons, and most of all I thought it was interesting to explore a possible scenario of our favourite Water Tribe family living away from the Poles, with all that comes with it. I also wanted to note that Hakoda is a little different here. It's an AU where he got permanently injured during the war, and leaving the Poles, along with losing his wife-all these things together have changed his attitude a little bit. I hope it makes sense :P so, that's it, for now. My hope is to update once a week (at least until september). For anything else, just let me know or ask me on tumblr :)**


	3. Chapter II - The Fortuneteller

**_Chapter II_ – The Fortuneteller**

* * *

Katara stepped ahead and looked back just one time _._ She waved at Lue and the other women, and her Gran-Gran, who stood in the doorway of the beauty saloon, her unperturbed blue eyes on her—after that, she turned again. _No more Gran-Gran, you're alone,_ she said to herself. _You're almost there. Let's get it over with this. The worst part is the fastest, right?_

She looked up, trailing her gown behind her and trying not to stumble, once again. _If some spirit is watching and feeling generous,_ she mentally said, _I need help. Just a little help. Just what it takes to come out of this without damage._

She sighed, doubting that would help in any way. If she wanted to get things right, she had to rely on herself alone. For the first time, Katara felt the weight of that responsibility crash down onto her shoulders. She turned around the corner of the street. She could hear well-known voices growing increasingly loud in her ears—it had to be her memory, but it felt like they were real—until she couldn't take it anymore. She knew right; it was all about honoring her father, her deceased mother, and what was left of the otherwise extinct, or at least forever lost Southern Water Tribe.

When she, her family and the few survivors had landed in the Earth Kingdom, stranded, helpless and with a hole in their souls, they had become aware nothing was left for them. Some dared to venture towards the North Pole and a few ended up making it, but it was a long and difficult journey; and in those heinous years of war, there was a chance it would result into nothing, as the Northern sister tribe was not so open to newcomers, even to their fellow tribesmen.

Katara and her family found they were alone for the first time. They found they had to care for only each other, alone in a foreign and mostly unknown country, with foreign people, and Katara remembered each of the struggles they'd had to face: from adjusting to the climate and the completely new lifestyle, the peregrination through the kingdom to find a village willing to welcome them, the house they had to build, the starving and the first attempts to scrape a living, the prejudice that marked them for so many years—to the look in her father's eyes, that broken, yet firm look that Katara had found lingering on herself so many times.

Katara was little and unaware of many things, but she always knew he would never let anything like that happen to her again. She knew he just wanted her to be wanted and _safe._

And what was safer than knowing where one's future leads them? Or where it _should_ lead them?

And if that meant marrying an Earth Kingdom man, so as to finally belong there and be part of a great nation, she supposedly couldn't hope for more. War, death and destruction could come back at any time; and what was best than being prepared and _protected_ from any danger?

Katara had turned sixteen during the previous summer. She would have to do what was meant for girls her age all over the world, including _her_ world, but most of all she had to do it in order to preserve her family and culture in a place where they were still nothing more than refugees, even after all those years.

Either way, it was most important to keep her mind shut, on that day. Because she had promised Sokka, and her father was relying on her success. Because she knew how much her Dad saw his wife in his daughter, more than he knew himself, and she couldn't fail his expectations and break his heart once again. Because _her mother was dead_ —she trembled at the harsh ensemble of words she'd never even thought before—and her memory was somewhat of an implied example and guide through everything that was expected from Katara.

The sound of rustling gowns and chatter called her back to the moment. She turned around and saw two girls hasten their pace, holding their parasols, and disappear behind the corner. She ran after them, lifting her gown, but she found out in relief that they had stopped just after the turn. She'd ended up in the clearing before the huge stairway, leading up to the highest plane in the village.

A bunch of other girls–Earth Kingdom, all of them–were already climbing the stairs in an orderly line, and she joined them. They all wore differet shades of green and yellow and white, strolling with their paper parasols and their heads up high, flowers and strange, bulky objects pinned in their hair. Each one of them had green or grey eyes and pale skin; and Katara knew she made a weird part of that group—her blue clothes, just like her eyes, her brown hair and skin would have caused her a lot of annoyance in being noticed by the little crowd behind, had she not been accustomed to it.

The stairs ended in the most important plaza of the village, where all celebrations were held. On the other side, an imposing building faced them, also destined to exceptional occasions. A sheltered wooden dais stood right in the middle, its golden decorations sparkling under the sun, and soon all the girls gathered in a line in front of it.

And then the door cracked open.

* * *

The fortuneteller was an elder woman, with a kind and wise look on her face. She might be around her sixties, but her posture and grace were enviable. Her grey hair was tied up in a big bun around her head with a braid falling behind, and a golden headpiece over her forehead. Katara, unlike her brother, believed her talent was real, because she had heard a lot of talk about this woman through the years, how she could predict when the volcano near Makapu would erupt and she saved the village a few times. The fortuneteller was affectionately called Aunt Wu. The people there seemed to worship her, so much she was actually considered an authority in the town—though Sokka seemed to be deeply skeptical about it, he was the only one—and that was the reason she accepted to examine the girls of the town once a year, taking her _matchmaking_ role as part of her job. Katara held a certain curiosity for her predictions, but she had a feeling that any prophecy on that day brought an exceptional binding meaning.

Aunt Wu stood there with a peaceful smile on her face, as she proceeded to the edge of the dais, with a very young girl in a pink kimono behind her. "Welcome, my young girls. The sun is up for a bright, beautiful day of spring today, and this is a good sign for you all. Spring is the time of rebirth, hope, and promises for the _future_. Which you all represent. And the sun only shines on blessed heads, which I can tell, you all are."

Katara gave a side glance to the other girls: they all literally hung off the fortuneteller's every word. And so did their mothers and anyone else behind them, she was positive about it.

"And now, my dearest friends" she continued, "with no further waste of words, let's start with our appointments today." She lifted a wooden tablet and checked it quickly, then called a name. One of the girls next to Katara made a sign, and she followed Aunt Wu, soon disappearing through the doors of the main building.

Katara saw three other girls pass after her, and never saw them come out from the main door. Then she almost jumped when she heard the sound of her name.

"Katara of Hakoda and Kya," the young girl in pink read intently, "of the Southern Water Tribe" she added, not hiding her slight surprise.

Katara startled, her head up. "Present!"

The girl raised her eyebrow. "So you're the Water Tribe girl. I've heard a lot of talk about you."

Katara hesitated, looking at the girl with her eyes widened. "Come, now" she hastened to say, and Katara quickly followed Aunt Wu's little assistant to the door.

They entered what had to be a nice waiting room, with a few cushions on both sides, plants and finely painted shields. The girl, however, walked past and entered a corridor, and then slid a door open in the wood and glass panel.

The fortuneteller was waiting in the center of a huge square room, in the light of candles and a small fireplace.

"Sit, my dear" the woman said gently, and Katara sat on the cushions in front of her. "Let's start right away. Meng, would you please bring us some tea?"

The little girl bowed and quickly disappeared behind the doors. Katara trembled—they were alone. It was about to begin, then.

"So" the woman started, joining her hands on her lap. "I see you come from a very distant place from here."

"I do" Katara answered, looking up at the woman "I was born in the South Pole. But I've been living in Makapu for about ten years, now." She hesitated. "My family escaped the Poles after our village was destroyed during the war."

The woman said nothing; instead, she just nodded. Then, she grabbed some parchment of hers and started scrolling. "I must be honest with you, dear—you'll be... difficult to match. Families are still pretty conservative in some parts of the world, our kingdom included, and hardly opened to foreigners. Some of the most prestigious families aim at preserving their _heritage_. Even to this day." She shook her head, clearly disapproving. "However, I'll see what we can do about this" she hastened to smile short after.

Katara swallowed—not much because of fear, but to throw back her embarrassment and irk. Despite herself, in that moment, she felt ashamed for feeling like an in-between person, neither from the Water Tribe or the Earth Kingdom: forced to live in a world she did not wholly belong to, still unwilling to welcome her.

"Before the reading" the woman continued "it is my duty to ask you a few questions. Is it alright?"

Katara nodded firmly.

"Well, then." She unfolded the scroll and started reading. "Are you a bender?"

"Yes" Katara answered quickly, with a hint of pride in her voice. "I am a waterbender."

"Very good. Can you heal? I hear some waterbenders have that ability, and it's usually what women are taught."

Katara nodded. She had accidentally healed her burned finger the year before, but having no one to teach her, she was still unsure about it. "Yes, I have this ability, but..."

"This sounds good for you, being a healer will surely make you more interesting as a wife." She smiled encouragingly before she proceeded. "And have you mastered your bending yet?"

Katara blushed and lowered her tone, this time. "No. I was about to say it. To be honest, I can barely waterbend. I discovered I could heal some time ago on an accident, but I was... never taught. As for a few _fighting_ moves _,_ my brother-"

"So I guess you're the only bender in your family."

Katara sighed. "That's correct, madam."

Aunt Wu nodded, and her lips curled patiently at Katara's slight coldness. "That's very interesting. So, Katara" she asked, looking at the girl "a woman needs to be prepared to the life she _chooses_ when she finds her match. She must understand her duties in serving and protecting her family. Do you _know_ what these duties are, Katara?"

Katara nodded and took a deep breath before she started to recite the ancient Earth Kingdom formula. " _To honor her roots until her death, support her fronds and keep her dignity, as the oak she doesn't bend in the wind._ "Her voice sounded hesitating but she didn't blink. " _To be gentle as the lily waving in the breeze and steady as the rocks in the ocean. May grace, wisdom and balance shape her beauty, soul and life. May she give life in order to protect and cherish."_

"That's right, Katara. And—do you feel ready to accomplish all of these duties?"

Katara swallowed. "I am" she lied.

"Very well." Aunt Wu smiled warmly. "Before I proceed reading your hand, and see the shape of what's ahead in your future, let us just have a little sip of tea, shall we?"

Katara nodded once. Only then did she hear the sound of sliding doors and steps on the wooden pavement. Meng had come back.

"Thank you, Meng" the fortuneteller said as the small girl proceeded to set the steaming porcelain cups and pot on the small table in front of Katara, then left the room again. "My young friend, the moment when you meet your future husband's family is one of the most crucial of your itinerary. The serving of the tea is an ancient ceremony in the Earth Kingdom bethrotal costumes. So, would you please serve me some tea?"

Katara looked at the woman's jovial smile a little confused and unsure, but she nodded once more. After all, it was only tea. She had served tea every day of her life, bending or not.

She lowered her gaze and focused on the teapot, keeping her elbows closed, her posture straight, and her movements light. She tried to be gracious and firm, though she felt uncomfortable with the fortuneteller's eyes pinned on her.

When the cups were full, the fortuneteller raised one and started sipping in silence. She threw a glance to Katara, expecting her to do the same; Katara blinked and hastened to grab her teacup.

"Now, my dear, there is one thing left for us to do" Aunt Wu said a little while later, as she placed her empty cup back on the table "as you might know, I am a fortuneteller, and I was honored with such an important task as to find the best way to help our girls, the _pearls_ of this land—to take their place in the world and guide them to their own future. In order to make the most of it, I will need to see a glimpse of what's in _your_ future, so that I can help you finding your way to it, or _changing its shape if it's not what you want._ "

Katara pursed her lips—but then, she remembered every muscle of her face had to be tense just to display a neutral expression. "Yes, madam. I am ready."

The fortuneteller smiled kindly, once again. Katara offered her hand, fingers open, palm up, and the woman took it in her own. Only then, something in Katara's mind focused on an insignificant detail such as the green beads on the many golden rings she wore.

Meanwhile, Aunt Wu examined her palm silently, by the light of the crackling fire.

It had been a few minutes, when all of a sudden, her eyes snapped open. "I can't believe what I'm seeing" she finally said, and she looked up on Katara, who held her breath "Katara of the Water Tribe, I must confess I wasn't expecting, but..."

"But?" she couldn't help murmuring, her breath caught in her troath. _There you go,_ she said to herself. _She saw the truth. She saw who you are. She will say an arranged marriage would never work with you and then you will be free._ Both fear and relief covered her heart at the thought of those words, yet she couldn't say which one of those would prevail.

"But—your future holds _incredible things for you,_ miss Katara!" Aunt Wu exclaimed, a lot of mixed emotions on her face, but most of all surprise, and sincere awe.

Katara let her jaw drop. How was one supposed to interpret that? "What...?"

"You are destined to do great things for your family, and even a _whole_ nation, young lady!" Aunt Wu continued, caught in the excitement of the vision. "You will bring honor to your family and restore the heritage of the Southern Water Tribe back to its dignity and greatness!"

"Am I?" Katara asked, her eyes opening wide. She didn't notice she had retracted her hand, clutching her heart.

"Indeed, my dear! Your _marriage_ is set to be the most glorious and honorable event after a very long time! Do you understand the meaning of this responsibility?" Katara's heart fluttered. "It is going to _seal_ what has been divided for so many years. You will be remembered for years to come, Katara!"

Katara let her breath out and felt her shoulders crumble down. Her hand dropped. Her delusion fell heavily over her.

Normally, being predicted such a match, she would have been curious, she thought. She would have been impatient and proud and happy. A lot of questions were peeping out in her mind, and maybe another day she would have aksed for more. But not now. Not now that for some reason her destiny sounded like a death sentence. Like a prison she couldn't escape, where she was forced to fade, caught forever in the shadow of someone else.

Could any honor to herself, her father or her people ever be worth the price of _that_? Or, more importantly, was it right?

She wasn't sure, but she most likely didn't make a sound for a while.

"A fate like this should never be ignored!" she heard the fortuneteller say, as from a distance. "You should be proud, miss Katara. And so should your parents! He will be one of the most _powerful_ benders of our time!" And saying so, the woman had grabbed Katara's hand again.

Katara wouldn't answer, but Aunt Wu apparently took that silence as some numbness due to happiness, and so she kept talking enthusiastically.

"Now, it is my job to help you find this union in every way I can; oh, there is so much to do before we find our way to him. But... before we are finished, there is a pure and simple formality—one last thing I have to ask you, one every girl who is about to leave her home and become a woman, must traditionally answer. You will excuse me for this."

"Yes, Aunt Wu." Katara bowed her head in the most respectful manner, trying to restrain her trembling.

The woman held a piece of parchment, as she cleared her voice to recite, "Are you ready to _accept_ your duties to your future husband and make them your own mission from now on? Are you willing to _sacrifice_ in order to keep your promise and your _honor_ up high?"

Katara hesitated. She suddenly felt the make-up sting on the skin of her face. She pinned her eyes on the matchmaker's, and stared. "I am... aware that you expect me to say 'I am', madam" she suddenly heard her own voice say "and I wish I could do it. But I can't." She cast her gaze down, still feeling the bewildered look on the woman's face. "In all honesty, when you ask if I'm ready to subdue and just stand still just _hoping_ this can keep my honor and my loved ones safe, then my answer is no. I just won't do that. I will never settle down for that."

Katara lowered her head so she should not face the woman again. She felt her deep eyes scrutinizing and pondering her, sure now she would shake her head and warn her no man would want someone like _that._ Not a disrespectful, riotous Water Tribe girl who clearly would not fit in anywhere completely. And in that moment, realization struck her.

"Do you understand what you're saying, miss Katara?" the woman said coldly, but unexpectedly calm. "My vision was..."

"Yes!" Katara almost yelled. "Yes, I do" she said, controlling her voice this time. But it was too late, anyway. She felt the words spilling out of her mouth, her heart opening up to that stranger. Actually, it was much easier than it would be in front of her father. "I understand. But I just can't do this. I'm not going to sit here and have my life all planned up by others. Or by the lines on my hand, for one." Her tone had raised as she spoke, but the sound of her voice let frustration show through more than anger. "I don't care what a honorable political marriage I can get, if it's not what and _whom_ I choose. It will never make up for what I've lost." She paused, and closed her eyes. "And if that means I will never be a part of this nation, or any other place that will never cease treating me like I'm some sort _outcast_ —so be it. Maybe it's for the best."

"Miss Katara, please, listen to me" Aunt Wu readily said, as soon as Katara stopped to catch her breath, "you're not thinking straight. Please consider what you're saying. Your whole family, your tribe, _our nation—_ all of these people relying on you. Your destiny lies ahead of you, and you can't ignore it. What I've read is-"

"Then maybe you're wrong" Katara cut in, and she jumped up from her seat. "Maybe

you're all wrong. Maybe I have the power to _change_ my destiny."

"Miss Katara" the fortuneteller said again, as she stood up. Still, no rage in her eyes. "I understand what you're feeling now. But a girl like you should never be so selfish. You forget you're needed."

"Don't _ever_ say that to me!" Katara almost yelled this time, despite herself; Aunt Wu stepped back, so shocked she could not even say a word.

For a moment they stared at each other, the elder woman still shielding herself with her arms, standing in a pool of tea and shattered chips.

Katara brought both her hands to her mouth, shaking her head. "I'm sorry" she said, tears showing up in her eyes. But before Aunt Wu could open her mouth, she was gone.

She ran out through the corridor and out of the house, barely breathing, and ended up in her Gran-Gran's arms; and all the while the world seemed to be turning around in a blur. Her grandmother didn't say a word—she just held her tight in her warm, strong hug. Katara shut her eyes, though she could almost physically _feel_ the eyes of all the girls and the people gathered in the plaza pointing on her—but for now, it was too soon for them to even hurt her.

The sound of rushing footsteps forced her to open them back.

"Katara of the Water Tribe!" The voice of Aunt Wu echoed loud behind her back, and Katara dared to sneak a look. The fortuneteller's face was twisted and her hair out of place and she almost stumbled on her gown. "You're making a huge mistake. Of this I am sure." Katara closed her eyes, bracing for the final blow. "But maybe you're right. You have the right to shape your destiny—and you already did. Good luck with whatever that will bring to your family."

Katara opened her eyes, in surprise. She was sure she could see a gleam in the old woman's proud eye before she turned on her heels, and she felt her heart wrench. Katara had expected the worst, and yet, Aunt Wu's reaction had left her even more confused than before. More than resentment, there were sincere concern and surprise, which was something hard to see on the face of a woman who could _foresee_ anything.

One moment later Aunt Wu closed the door shut behind her. Right there and then, everyone remained silent. But Katara knew it was only a matter of seconds before it started—and she didn't want to see that.

"Let's go home" Gran-Gran whispered, as though she could read her mind.

* * *

 **A/N: So here was the fortuneteller meeting. I've had quite a tough time while writing this one, I might say it was one of the most difficult chapters I've written so far. I wanted to make the dynamics of the meeting similar to the movie, while keeping Katara's and Aunt Wu's characters intact. So here we finally have a glimpse of Katara's backstory; to solve any doubts about the timeline: mind the war didn't last a hundred years, as it ended before Sozin's comet, roughly in 97 A.G. (after the Air Nation Genocide). Now, the story is settled two or three years later than the time of the show, so the year is 102-103 A.G. Katara is sixteen, and she left the South Pole in 92 A.G., more or less. Hence, Sokka is 17 and Zuko is 18-19.**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading this far and reviewing-it means a lot to me. I hope I'll see you soon with the next chapter, should be up in a week or so :) also I might be uploading some art for this chapter in the next few days. Actually I've had an idea I could post every chapter along with art, from now on! Check my tumblr these days if you're interested ^^**


	4. Chapter III - Reflections and Shadows

**_Chapter III_ – Reflections and Shadows**

* * *

The gate opened and let Katara and her grandmother into the courtyard of their house. Katara kept her pace slow, her head down, only focusing on the words she was supposed to say. The point was she didn't have any.

"They're back!" she heard Sokka shout. He was coming in her direction, and she wondered how she could look up to him, when he gave her a full smile. "Katara! Wow, you kind of look... _beautiful!_ You don't even look like _you_ at all. By the way—how did it go?"

"Sokka, listen..."

"I must admit I am a little curious about this _fortuneteller_ thing. How does she-"

"Sokka! Stop it!" she exclaimed when the knot in her troath finally let her, and jerked back. "I don't feel like talking about it. Get it?"

She shut her mouth, heavily breathing, and stared at her brother, her flaming expression twisted in humiliation, pain, and despair. Her father had appeared by the doorway and they gazes had met. She lowered her head, hiding her frown.

Sokka stared at her blankly, gone numb for bewilderment. Katara took advantage of his distraction to sneak out of his grasp. She headed out, to the backyard, and kept her eyes shut, so she was sure she could avoid her father's.

"Katara! _Wait!"_ she heard her brother call her on the other side of the wall.

But in the end he knew Katara wanted to be alone, and she knew he would never follow her there. Out of instinct, she suddenly took those prickling hairpins out of the back of her neck, leaving a cascade of brown curls fall behind her back, while she passed the stone wall behind the main house.

Only when she was far enough into the large garden, all alone, did she feel like she could finally breathe. The air was tense with a mixed scent of pine and earth, and that was probably one of the things Katara liked about living in the Earth Kingdom—there was so much more life and color than huge, empty plains of ice and snow, at least. She probably would have ended up breaking out of the Pole, if she'd been there all along for sixteen years, she thought. But still, ice and snow were part of her being. They were carved on her soul, and maybe that was more than she could bear, being the last waterbender alive from the Southern Tribe.

Katara blinked at the one memory that would haunt her every day—the black snowflakes, the ice crackling under their feet, tents burning up in flames and people running for their lives; she could remember hearing women and children cry everywhere around her, the race to her tent, the tall man standing inside.

Since then, everything had always been on _her._

Her father was an understanding man, and Katara knew he loved his children more than anything in this world. For them, he had reinvented himself completely, buying a fishing vessel and some land, and becoming a moderately successful salesman and enterpreneur. But he was born and raised a warrior; he had a strong sense of duty, which he had tried to instill in Sokka and herself as they grew up. Both of them had always striven to never fail that.

Katara's one big fault was that she took it as one of her duties to fill the space that had been left.

Every day since they landed in their _new home,_ as Hakoda used to call it when they were little, Katara had been the glue, the hope, the strength and the spirit of the family. She had held them together where they would have fallen apart, despite the stinging pain in her chest she had to fight constantly, in those first few years. She never gave up, she never complained. _Until now._ Until the time that was meant for _her,_ Katara, only.

But maybe that was the point. This time, it was all about her. The worst thing was her entire being felt that what she had done was _right._ Arranged marriages were still part of the Water Tribe customs, of course. It appeared to be part of the Earth Kingdom's as well, and she was supposed to deal with it. She never wanted to deny her culture, as much as she despised this one aspect. But she felt that somehow, at some point, her own choice was more important than anything else. Before hearing Aunt Wu's prediction, she had never realized how much she was not willing to sacrifice.

Was it so wrong if settling for that was not what she wanted? What if she felt she was more than Water Tribe heritage, or a refugee in the Earth Kingdom? What if she was meant to be more than what was expected from her?

While tangled in her thoughts, Katara approached the small fountain in the middle of the garden, and looked down to find her reflection in the water. She saw excessive pink blush against a pale face that she didn't recognize, faded red lips, and huge, shadowed blue eyes. Suddenly, everything about her reflection that merely two hours earlier she had found pleasing seemed now disturbing and jarring.

She flicked her hand angrily and a sudden wave abruptly destroyed that image. Suddenly she realized that a war was going on inside her head. Who was _Katara?_ What did she want? What was her _real_ destiny—was she even meant to have one? She had no idea what would come now. She hadn't thought about it. But whatever it would imply, she was still positive that, all in all, she had done the right thing. After all, the only thing she knew about Katara was that she was never a person to give up without a fight, not even _now,_ that her happiness was questioned.

And so, she was ready to face the consequences.

Slowly, she rubbed her sleve against her face, and only opened her eyes when the stinging on her skin was finally gone. She saw her familiar dark skin again, clean blue eyes, thick lashes again. The other half of her face was still covered with make-up. It gave her a strange, alienating feeling, to look at the two halves staring back at her, with the blue charm as the only thing that seemed to hold them both together.

She brought her hand to her necklace. Everyone she knew always said that the resemblance between her and her mother was astonishing, and that used to make Katara proud, as there didn't seem to be anything more to aspire to. Now, for the first time, she was not confident about it. She was not sure whether she wanted to look like someone, either.

Once she had her face completely washed with fresh water, Katara gave a last look at herself, then took a deep breath—and with a sudden movement she untied her necklace, held it tight in her hands, and slowly let it slide down in her pocket.

* * *

Katara had been sitting down for a few minutes—or it might have been hours, she could hardly tell—on a stone bench, in the shadow of the cherry trees, hearing only the pounding water from the fountain behind her. At some point, she shuddered at the sound of steps and rustling clothes coming by her side.

Dad. It was her dad.

"Ah, what a nice sight here, this time of the day" he sighed, looking around, to the garden and the trees. His voice sounded firm, as always, low, but gentle.

Katara looked at him from the corner of her eye. She had not realized how hard and unreal it would have felt to confront him, after what she had said in front of Aunt Wu—but not him.

"I bet you love to come here to just... feel the water stream" he continued. "It's not the shore, but it reminds you of one. Doesn't it?"

Katara snorted and looked away, her face contracted in a painful expression. She felt helpless, but she didn't want to be helped. Not from _him._ And she hated herself for that. "Sort of" she replied coldly. "Look, I just came here for... quiet. I don't need anyone to lecture me right now." That came out harsher than she'd want. She bit her lip.

"I'm not here to lecture you" he said, and Katara felt something clench inside her when she heard the patient note in his voice. "I just figured you were missing something."

Katara flinched and her hand flew instinctively to her neck. "My necklace" she murmured, and turned quickly, just to find it again in her father's hands. Her face lit up in relief when she saw it was safe beside her again, but a shadow fell over her face as she remembered why she had taken it off, and she twisted her head on the other side.

"You know, I once knew someone who was kind of like the ocean. Never still, never constrained. She could never resign to follow the path others expected her to. And so she ran away." Katara turned partially, not hiding her curiosity. "She could never accept the rules she was being forced to follow. She refused to marry a man she didn't choose, and she was ready to leave her family and loved ones behind, and sail the sea one night without saying goodbye."

"And then? What became of her?" Katara couldn't help asking.

Hakoda smiled. "Then, she ended up on the other side of the world, ready to start and build her own path alone."

Katara turned completely this time, her eyes widened. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know she ended up _happy._ And she chose for herself _",_ he said, his eyes fixed on her. They were filled with kindness, and _regret._

"Who was that?" she asked. Her tone had softened and she almost smiled.

"Oh. Some stubborn, cynical old woman with two likewise headstrong grandchildren you must know very well."

"Gran-Gran", Katara exclaimed, widening her eyes. "How is that I never knew...?"

"She never told you. She was born in the Northen Water Tribe. She moved to the South Pole, where she met your grandfather."

Katara looked down quietly, and a little smile made its way to her face. Then she sighed. "Dad... I would never run away from you. No matter what-"

"Listen, Katara," he got serious, clenching his knees in his hands, "I've made some mistakes. I _never_ wanted you to be unhappy. I just wish the best for you and your brother. I spent all these years trying to build strong walls around you both and I thought that was all you needed. But I guess I was wrong."

Katara did not want to blink, so he would not see tears roll down her face. So she lowered her head as much as she could.

"I guess you're like your grandmother. And like the ocean. You can't be held within." Katara's lips curved, and although she could not see it, she knewhe was smiling too. "I want you to know that whatever you do, I'm sure it's the right choice. And it will show, sooner or later."

She finally turned her smiling face to him, and Hakoda wiped away a tear from her face with his thumb. "Now, let me help you put this on again" he said, unfolding the necklace, "and be careful not to lose it again. Your daughter is going to need it."

Katara smiled and gathered her hair up, so he could tie the blue ribbon behind her neck.

"You know what, you should do that more often. You look beautiful with your hair back." Hakoda said, then.

Katara laughed lightly, letting him put an arm around her shoulders. "I know. You always say that."

Maybe he was about to say something—but Katara never got to hear that. The sound of thunder had just blown up the whole garden. Nothing had happened there, but something was waiting outside. Katara looked up at Hakoda, but he stood up bluntly. "Stay in" he warned, as he vanished behind the wall.

Needless to say it, Katara followed him and reached the front side of the house, where Gran-Gran stood, behind the entrance to the courtyard. She saw Sokka walk by, throwing a single glare at her, his face extremely tense.

"What's going on?" she asked in a whisper.

Her Gran-Gran said nothing, she just made a sign; and Katara knew she'd just have to climb up to the roof of the front wall.

The sound she had distractedly perceived as a thunder was actually the kind of sound one should never really misunderstand. Clanging metal, heavy steps stomping on the ground, paws galloping on the grass, trumpets calling with a cold, empty tune. Upon seeing them, Katara felt stupid for not remembering—that was the sound of _soldiers._

She swallowed. That could not mean anything good.

There were about five or six men, each riding an armed ostrich-horse, all dressed up in the Earth Kingdom military uniforms. They carried the green vessels of their Nation. They all looked the same—except for one, one who was probably the head of the group, since he proceeded two steps ahead from the others. He looked older, long white strands falling behind his neck, but still in good shape. He wore military clothes as well, but his armor and suit had a whole different design; and they were blue. As he got closer, Katara couldn't be mistaken—that man was from the Water Tribe.

As the small squad approached the place, people in the neighboorhood had come out their houses. Only men had stepped out of their yards, while children were being called back to their mothers' arms, behind the gates. Suddenly, silence cut the air like a knife.

The Water Tribe man spoke first. His voice was cold, harsh, spiteful. "Listen carefully, everyone. We're here to announce you the Earth Kingdom has officially entered a war."

Katara felt her heart pound. _War._ She, like everyone else there, knew the real meaning of that word. After the deepest silence, commotion exploded among those people. Mothers were stepping backwards, holding their kids tighter by instinct. Old and young men looked at each other, murmuring conceitedly. But it didn't last long—an annoyed gesture from the soldiers brought the order back.

"A huge danger is threatening not only this nation, but our world _as a whole."_ If the previous statement had caused panic, this one froze everyone where they stood. The man, on his account, kept talking plainly, not a trace of emotion in his voice. "An unknown civilization who calls itself _Shuang Xue_ is coming down from the Northern Mountains; and they're headed for Ba Sing Se. They have already brought the northern fortresses down and won't stop easily. The King obtained help from other nations, but he required new recruits to be gathered immediately." Then—Katara thought—that was why a Water Tribe man led a squad of earthbending soldiers.

The man waited and let the little crowd mutter again, before resuming his speech. "By order of King Bumi, at leastone man per family is _peremptorily_ called to serve in the army to protect your nation. Volunteers are warmly accepted."

Katara didn't realize what those words meant before a few seconds passed. _At least one man per family._ She felt her heart sink down through her chest. It couldn't be happening for real. Not again.

She hadn't noticed that one of the soldiers had stepped forward and started reading a scroll.

He was calling names.

"Ling Ten-Zhu, of the Earth Kingdom" he said loud and clear as possible.

A dark skinned man in green robes stepped forward to take his conscription scroll, and bowed respectfully. He had to be around his fourties.

"Jong Kai, of the Earth Kingdom" the soldier spoke again.

An old man raised his hand; but a slim boy held his arm before of him, and it was he who reached out to take his family's scroll.

"My father is too old to fight. I'll come in his place" he said fiercely—maybe a little too confident for his young age—and bowed down deeply.

Similar scenes repeated for another two or three calls. The atmosphere was still and tense in the small clearing. The men who got their calls got back into their houses without saying a word to anyone.

In the end, there were only two people left standing there.

"Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe" the soldier claimed.

Katara felt the blood in her veins freeze. She immediately slid down from the roof, but found a little crowd blocking her way.

Hakoda's upright stance didn't falter for a moment. He was heading towards the soldier, looking straight ahead, and he was the picture of strength and pride, his pace as confident as it could be, his breath regular, his jaw perfectly squared.

"I'm taking his place."

 _Sokka._

He had spoken without any trace of reverence or hesitation. He walked fast and almost passed his father, before a tight clasp grabbed him by the elbow.

"Sokka, stop."

"I'm _not_ letting you go!" Sokka shouted, and tugged his arm out of the grasp.

"Sokka, I need you to understand. Your place is here. You're _needed_ here."

"No, _you're_ needed here!" he replied angrily, and though they were both muttering between their teeth, Katara could hear the tremor in his voice. "I'm ready to go and I must..."

"Sokka, I am the older one", Hakoda said in a plain tone. "You're young and you must stay here. To _protect_ your sister."

"Stop it!" Katara screamed. The sprint she had made to break through the crowd got her nearly stumbling between Hakoda and Sokka, and now she was trying to push them apart.

"Katara! I told you to stay-"

"Stop it, both of you! How can you _discuss_ about this? Sir," she looked up at the Water Tribe man, "my father has fought honorably and distinguished himself in helping defeating the Fire Nation and ending the One Hundred Years War. He was left _injured,_ he can barely walk, and," she didn't stop though the man opened his mouth to speak "and my brother won't let him go alone! If they both-"

"Silence!", the man managed to shout this time, a scornful, outraged look aimed at her. "How _dare_ you, you insolent little girl? You clearly have no idea what you're talking about."

"There are hundreds of men ready to fight in your army!", Katara continued angrily, despite the fact that the insult had hurt her more than she would have wanted. "Both Dad and Sokka are not..."

"Your impertinence is disgraceful!" the man hissed, and this time Katara closed her mouth. "Something much greater than yourselfis at stake, _foolish_ _girl_. Hakoda, you should teach your daughter some _respect_!"

Katara's face turned red. _I'll give you respect,_ she thought. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, despite Sokka had grabbed her arm, vainly trying to hold her down; what eventually stopped her, however, was seeing her dad tilt his head and bend under the weight of something _she_ had caused.

"I apologise in the name of my daughter for her behavior, Master Pakku," he said. "I accept the call my host nation and our tribe honored me with. I will serve them both for my family and my people." Though his voice was calm and respectful, Katara had seen his blue eyes stare piercingly into the Master's gaze.

"All the recruits in this region will head North to reach the Fire Nation colony of Kai Hua, by the delta of the Su Yan river", one soldier instructed him, loud enough to be heard from everyone.

The man that was called Pakku didn't move, nor did his contemptous expression falter as Hakoda took his scroll without a word and turned his back on the soldiers, making his way back to the house. The people who were left standing outside stared at him silently, a glimpse of admiration in their eyes. Katara turned to Sokka and they exchanged a petrified look.

"I promise I won't let you go alone", Sokka said in a hurry, turning to their father as he passed them by, and then to Master Pakku. "I will join my father as a soldier. To defend my tribe and family."

"Sokka, you don't know what you're talking about-"

"And you're telling me, Katara?" he said coldly, jerking away from her.

This time Katara was left speechless. She stood petrified as she watched Sokka turn his back on her and follow their father back inside. And as the crowd started scattering behind her, and the soldiers left in a cloud of dust, she felt alone like never before.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey! So how did you like this chapter? Things are starting to heat up a little. I'm sorry for the longer wait. I just wanted to focus on art for the previous chapter, which you can find on my tumblr if you're interested! :) Going to be working for this one too. Hope I can update earlier than like 10 days, we shall see for that. Thanks to everyone for trusting this story and for your precious reviews! See you soon :)**


	5. Chapter IV - The Cut

**_Chapter IV_ – The cut**

* * *

As the daylight was growing dim, Katara finally got out of her room. She was meant to go prepare dinner—she feared, if she was late coming to the kitchen, that Gran-Gran would do everything on her own. She claimed she could handle everything and sometimes would pull Katara out of the way from cooking dinner and even cleaning and sewing pants. Whatever she said, however, she would turn eighty-two that year, and Katara felt the need to help her as much as she could; in the last few years she'd been gradually taking over the house. But still, it was well known that the old woman was stubborn.

On her way to the kitchen, Katara walked down the dark corridor and almost didn't notice when she paced by a slightly open door. A dim glow crept through the opening and made the only source of light in the corridor. She stopped by, and brought her eyes to the thin crack of the door.

That was her father's war relics room. It had been closed for so many years she had forgotten about its existence. Her father stood in the middle, in front of his blue armor—his beautiful Water Tribe armor, with fur and leather belts and the symbol of the moon painted on the chest—and his hand held something in a steely grip. The silvery blade shined by the firelight as he moved swiftly around the room, fending the air with clean, precise strokes, so nimbly he seemed to _flow_ like water _._ He got faster and felt even more powerful time after time.

Then she saw him abruptly freeze where he stood, the club dropping from his hand; he fell on his knees. Katara felt wrenched, watching her father hang his head. In that moment, she saw a shadow of the man she used to see every day. Looking so frail, and vulnerable, he was hardly recognisable. That fall, for sure, injured him more deeply than any fire or blade could have done. Katara read on his face that he was aware of everything, as seeing himself from a distance while he was on his knees, hardly breathing from the pain, unable to stand up; and that he was ashamed of that.

She silently gasped as she fought the compelling urge to burst in and rush to his side, to help him up again. But she knew that, now, her presence would hurt him harder. She turned on her heel, reluctantly, and walked away, her face twisted in mixed emotions.

She was a few steps farther when she bumped into her brother, for the second time that day.

"Sokka" she murmured, surprised. For some reason, she was nervous.

He gently moved her out of his way. He was looking straight ahead, and through the darkness, Katara could see an unprecedented turmoil spreading across his features. He said nothing, he just walked past her; she saw him disappear behind the door she had just left behind.

"Sokka." She heard her father's still weary voice resound through the corridor. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

Katara's feet were moving before she could realize. She pressed her ear to the door, holding her breath.

"There's no talking, Sokka. You heard what I said. I'm not changing my mind."

"This is not about _you,_ Dad" Sokka said harshly. Katara had never heard him talk like that to anyone, let alone their father. "How can you not _understand?_ You think going over there alone and maybe get-" he hesitated, "get yourself... _badly hurt_ will do any good to our family?"

"You know why I'm doing this", Hakoda said coldly. "I need to go serve my people one last time as I have always done. What you don't understand is you might never-"

"Why do you all keep saying this?" The frustration in Sokka's outburst didn't hide a certain tremor in his voice. "Why do you want to keep me out of this? I'm a grown man, and I was born a warrior. I am seventeen. I can fight! I am fast, I am have good resistance, and-and I can always figure a way out one way or another! I _can_ make it! Why can't you just _believe_ in me?"

Katara heard her Dad sigh, and when he spoke, his tone had softened. "Sokka, listen to me." Another sigh. "Remember when you were six, back in the South Pole, and you wanted to come fight with me? You said the same words you're saying now."

"I wanted to help. I wanted to... prove that I was a man. That I was like you."

"Do you remember what I told you back then?"

Pause. "You said... being a man is being where you're needed the most." Sokka's tone had gotten lower now.

"Yes. And that's what I want you to do now. You must stay here. To protect your sister, once again. Like you always have."

"I know", Sokka said firmly, after a moment's hesitation. "Protecting our family is all I want to do. But—that's why I want you to listen to me. This time it's different. _You know_ I'm ready to take it now. I just want you to _trust_ _me._ "He paused again—Katara was expecting her father to say something, but he didn't. "You have to believe me when I say, never have I known where I was needed the most, as I do now. I cannot stop you, even if I want to; I understand that you _need_ to go, even though it's crazy. But I know I'm not letting you go on your own. My place is fighting _beside you_ , until I can bring you back home _safe_. For Katara. And Gran-Gran. And even for..."

He didn't finish his phrase. After a few moments of silence, Katara heard her father snort resignedly. A bitter laugh. "I guess I wouldn't stop you if I tried, would I?"

"You can bet on it" Sokka said, with the same smile imprinted in his voice.

"Fine." Hakoda paused, and made a few steps. "I want you to have this one. You will make a better use of it than I would."

 _His club,_ Katara thought.

"You mean _we_ will. We'll do this together."

"I'm so proud of you, Sokka."

Katara almost choked when she heard the way those words were spoken. What she had just heard just slipped out of her understanding. How foolish and empty their common sense of honor sounded to her, neither of them willing to stop the other, both purposely heading to the same fate. Maybe, deep inside, she knew they both had their reason she couldn't possibly object; but that didn't mean she would justify them.

Either one of them or both, any solution seemed to lead to the same place.

 _You might lose them both,_ a voice echoed in her mind.

Her head was reeling, as refusing to understand, as she walked alone in the darkness, staring blankly ahead.

 _You will lose them both._

* * *

Dinner time was everyone's favourite time in the house. Sea prunes and roasted arctic hen would usually come with cheerful chatter and good spirits, and with the comforting crackling of the fire it truly felt like home.

But that was not the day.

In fact, the dining room was unusually silent that night. Something in the air seemed to crack, like lightning was about to strike in the middle of the table one moment or another. Everyone would stare at their dishes reluctantly, barely picking food with their chopsticks, and Katara could hardly recall a single time when Sokka was lacking appetite. The only audible sounds were the rare, distant thunders rumbling from outside and Gran-Gran's lazy chewing—and suddenly Katara was feeling sickened by it.

She tried to catch her brother's gaze, but he looked down as their eyes met. As for her father—he'd been focused on solely eating his food and not making a sound since they sat at the table.

Lastly, she looked at Gran-Gran, and she found two sad, deep grey eyes glancing back at her for a second, before they turned away.

Katara slammed her cup onto the table abruptly, and the tea almost spilled out. Such a piercing, sudden sound seemed so out of place, almost surreal, resonating in the dense air between them. "You shouldn't have to go!" she shouted.

"Katara" her Gran-Gran reprimended.

"Katara, sit back down-"

"There's plenty of men, ready to fight for this nation, for _all four nations_! Why can't you understand? _How can you do this to us?_ "

"Katara." This time Hakoda was speaking, and it went unheard.

"And Sokka, too—you would accept to put his life in danger _along with yours_ instead of keeping him from going? He's so young, he's never fought before, and he's not even a _bender!_ "

Sokka got up, his face livid. "This is unfair!"

"Katara," Hakoda said, his voice surprisingly calm "one day you will understand..."

"I don't care! I _refuse_ to understand! This is not right and you know it!" Katara was shouting as she was out of control. Something was flooding her entire body, something she couldn't shake away now. "How—How can you leave us again to fight wars you cannot win? After what happened to mom?" She hesitated, and she looked him dead in the eye. " _If you had been with us that day, maybe she would still be here!_ "

"Enough, Katara!" Sokka yelled.

The words had poured out of her mouth before she could realize what they meant. Suddenly her knees were weak and she felt the urge to sit back down.

"Your mother died _protecting_ the ones she loved." Hakoda's severe figure was now towering over, a terrible, fiery light in his eyes. "She knew exactly what her place was. Just like I know mine. It's time for _you_ to learn what is _yours_!"

It felt like the ground was crumbling under her feet; for a moment she literally saw her face pale through the reflection on Hakoda's widened eyes. His own features were flooded with pain as soon as he finished speaking. By the time he looked up again, Katara was gone.

* * *

She could barely feel the sting of the rain on her skin and clothes, after all that time sitting still under the storm. It had started right when she had burst outside, seeking for clean air, and she hadn't bothered finding a shelter. Wasn't water her element, after all? Instead, she had chosen to sit right in the middle of the garden, crawled into a recess of some wooden totem her Gran-Gran insisted to keep.

At some point, in the vague wandering of her thoughts, she recalled her fine dress, the same she'd been wearing since that morning to meet the matchmaker, the cloth all soaked and the silk stained by the mud. Suddenly that feverish morning seemed so distant.

 _You will lose them both,_ the voice reminded her quietly once more.

 _And there's nothing you can do about it._

She circled her own body with her arms, feeling the cold penetrate her skin for the first time that night.

 _Sunrise is here soon. There's no time. You can't stop them._

She thought of how easily things could change right after one struggled to get them right again. She recalled the days when the war was coming to an end. She recalled how her father didn't want to return to the Water Tribe. They had settled in the Earth Kingdom, and he told them the weather was nicer there, that business was doing well; but Katara knew none of those were the real reasons. She knew the Poles—even on the other side of the world—brought too many memories back. Good and bad. And, knowingly or not, he just wanted to leave them behind.

Part of her knew being a soldier was her father's true calling. That a honorable death in the ranks of this United Army, the result of a peace he had struggled to contribute to, would have been the best way for him to die. But she couldn't take it. How could he be so selfish and proud? How could he accept Sokka to join him to the war?

She had run out thinking she was hurt by what Hakoda said, but now she realized her own words had wounded her more than her father's. She had thought, once they were spoken, that pouring them out would at least make it better, at some point. But she was wrong. No words could explain how horrible those things sounded as they echoed in her mind, and how hardly she could believe that was _her_ speaking.

Yet, a part of her still wouldn't take them back.

Was she really blaming her father for her mother's death? Was she still unconsciously mad at him? Were her feelings towards him affected by that?

Or was she just blaming the war, and how it had marked their fates permanently?

Katara usually insisted thinking her Dad was _tired_ of the fighting, and seeing death spread everywhere and encircle him like a wildfire. And that maybe was true. But there was his nature—he was bound to _protect._ Like anyone was told since a young age in the Southern Water Tribe—protect and cherish the ones you love. Men, women, old ones and children, all in a different way, that would be one destiny for everyone.

Maybe it was just her own selfishness, after all. Maybe he and Sokka were right. Maybe she should just accept to stay in her place.

Her eyes widended at the thought that she might be wrong for trying to stop them. That coming back to war was a way for her Dad to make it up to his wife. To erase his guilt and die, maybe, but at peace. Knowing this time he wouldn't be too late.

Would this work, though? Losing people for their courage and selflessness was something she just wouldn't take anymore.

"Katara."

Despite herself, she raised her head. Sokka was standing by the open window.

She said nothing.

"What are you doing?" His words came out in a sort of tired, bitter way.

"I just want to be left _alone."_ She felt sorry immediately after, for the coldness in her tone.

"I see. Well—I just wanted to let you know—we're leaving early in the morning." The tremor in his voice didn't pass unnoticed.

She forced her lips to twitch in a half smile. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yeah. I guess. I'm... ready for bed."

A brief silence followed, as they both stared at the raindrops falling on the ground. "I'll bring him home, Katara" he said suddenly, in a grave, determined tone. "I'll bring both of us home. I promise. I can do this."

"I know."

"Well," he said quietly, after another brief pause, "I need to go now. Are you-are you planning to get in anytime soon? You're going to catch a cold."

"I'm not cold", she smiled as to prove it.

"Sure. Well..." he rubbed the back of his neck, and sighed. Katara had hardly ever seen her brother so unsure. "I just wanted to say... _take care,_ okay?"

Katara had to keep smiling, faintly as she did. "I will."

The window closed shut over Sokka's last smile, and silence swallowed her once again. The light in his room had gone off; Gran-Gran's window had been dark for a while. The only source of light left came from her father's chamber. Through the courtains, she glimpsed his silhouette stand against the candlelight. He had unrolled a scroll—his conscription notice, she guessed.

Then, he put it down next to his bed. He sat down, and she saw him bury his face in his hands. He stayed like that for some time, and Katara could swear she saw his large, sturdy shoulders shake once or twice.

She shut her eyes, determined not to see any of that anymore, until she felt the darkness fall more intense around her, telling her he had turned the lights off as well.

 _The time is over,_ the voice said. _Before daylight, they will be gone._

The time to do something.

So often, as a child, she had wondered why war happened. It was just a stupid concept to her childish logic. At the time, she thought that once she grew up, she would do something about it and change things, because she just couldn't figure out why people kept destroying things if that would make _everyone_ suffer sooner or later.

Now, she knew the point in destruction, and war, and loss, and death, was the same one—they couldn't be stopped. There was nothing one could do but to feel helpless.

She was not fast enough to find help. She could not save her mother.

And just like that, now, she could do nothing but sit there in the rain, and watch them leave.

Her hand flew to the necklace. _Your mother died protecting the ones she loved,_ her father's voice resonated in her head. _She knew what her place was..._

"… _I know mine too_ ", she muttered under her breath.

She had a blurry vision of the last time she had seen her. _Just let her go,_ she said. She had smiled at her. _I'll handle this._ Never again would Katara see again a human being with such a strong, powerful, faithful courage, a bold smile hiding fear under an unbreakable facade. Katara had trusted her, no matter how scared she was.

Kya, her mother, had never held a weapon. She wasn't a bender either. She had always been the perfect daughter, wife, and mother. Every single time someone would compare her to her mother, she used to feel a light sting inside. Most of all, because she knew she could never even get close to that ideal, no matter how hard she tried; and this Katara had experienced painfully.

But now she saw _._ Her Mom was never a warrior, but she _did_ fight. She gave her life for her children and died looking her murderer in the eye. She was the bravest person Katara had ever known—and now she realized that even though she was no match for such courage, she could do something similar.

She held the necklace in her fingers and lifted her face, rain streaming down her cheeks. The sting wasn't bothering her anymore. She saw the pieces come together and her doubts vanished.

She _could_ do something.

* * *

Her soaked gown was heavy, and it was hard to move fast and not wake her father as he slept. The comforting sounds of thunder and heavy rain helped her as she reached out for the scroll that was resting beside her father. Katara looked at him, an undefinable emotion in her chest. There was no time to write.

She almost reached for the pendant on her neck, but her hand stopped halfway to it. So she just pulled one of her coral pins from her head—her wet hair fell over her face down her shoulders— and placed it gently on the night table, hoping that would be enough to replace any words unsaid. She only looked back once.

She flew downstairs to Hakoda's war room, holding the sleek blade of the club—she had stolen it from Sokka's room and had quickly disappeared, allowing herself just a glance at her brother sleeping. Now she sat before the empty fireplace, her fingers clenched around the handle. _Just one cut, Katara,_ she said to herslef. _Straight and neat._

She took a deep breath and her hand moved before hearing any reasons.

She let the blade slide and thick brown curls fell floating to the ground. It was too late to go back. Now her hair reached barely a shoulder lenght. Those long strands of hair, cascading to the bottom of her back since she could remember, were now lying on the pavement. Another goodbye, this time to herself.

She took a deep breath and, eyes still closed, gathered the hair from her forehead back into a wolftail behind the top of her head.

At this point, the armor was waiting, staring down at her from the closet, and Katara stared back with undefined uneasiness.

When she was done, she avoided looking at her own reflection, fearing she wouldn't recognize it. She just tightened every belt and string she could and held her breath, looking straight ahead.

It was time. She rushed to the stables as fast as she could, hushed her father's ostrich-horse, and led it out into the courtyard. Rain hadn't stopped for the whole night, and it fell over her as she stepped out of the wall. Katara allowed herself to look back, and fought the pain in her troath.

She couldn't think twice.

She closed her eyes, jumped on the back of the horse and spurred harder than she wanted to, to disappear in the night in a silver cloud of raindrops.

" _Katara!"_

* * *

Gran-Gran sat up out of breath, eyes wild. She almost fell over from her bed.

"Katara is gone."

She appeared in Sokka's room looking like a ghost, and the boy froze at the sight of her shocked features lit by the lightning, at the sound of her words.

They all searched everywhere around the house, calling her name. Hakoda was the first to burst the front door open, only to fall on his knees under the pouring rain. The coral pin flew out of his fingers.

Sokka rushed to his side. "Dad" he whispered numbly. "I've looked everywhere. She's _gone_." He sounded like he didn't believe that.

Hakoda kept his head down, and Sokka heard him sob. "She took everything away."

Sokka stared at the courtyard gate. "She can't have gone too far. We can still catch up."

" _How_ are you going to reach her, Sokka?" Hakoda replied, in a monotone voice. "We have no horse. The stall is empty."

Sokka blinked. "We need to stop her," he replied firmly. "We _need_ to do something."

"It will be too late," was the only response.

Sokka got on his feet as though he didn't hear that and started walking resolutely toward the entrance. "I'll go look for her. She might be killed."

A thunder resonated above them. "If you reveal her," Hakoda said suddenly from behind him, " _she will be_."

Sokka didn't answer this time, but he didn't move either.

Under the shelter of the front porch, another tiny voice whispered, drown out by the pouring rain.

"Keep being strong, my little waterbender." Gran-Gran, however, had no doubts about it.

* * *

 **A/N: So, I'm almost two weeks late. Ugh. I'm sorry about this. fanfiction. net has been off for nearly a week, and then there was this chapter, that was a beast to finish, as I had to partially rewrite the first draft; and I'm still not entirely sure it's just like I wanted. Nevertheless, it's my favourite so far. You might have noticed this was mostly a introspective chapter; I've worked a lot to make it as fluid as I could, so I hope these "meditative" parts are still enjoyable. This is a delicate part where Katara is coming to some important realizations, not only about what she can do—or wants to do, but also about herself; and I valued it was most important to display her inner turmoil, and the steps that gradually lead her to the decision to leave. As I said, this was extremely difficult to achieve. Also so much angst and drama are not easy to handle. But I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did in writing it :)**

 **Also, if you're interested in my art for this fic you can check my tumblr in the next few days. I'm going to post some piece for Chapter 3! See you guys soon (maybe in one or two weeks).**

 **p.s.: Oh, one more thing! As I've said, I'm not a native English speaker. While I was working on this chapter specifically, I had a lot of trouble with finding the correct tense in some phrases. It's one of those things about English I don't entirely understand yet, so I'm sorry if you cringe seeing my mistakes—but please let me know so I can correct anything wrong (and maybe finally learn how to properly use past perfect tense, ugh).**


	6. Chapter V - Different Perspectives

**_Chapter V_ – Different perspectives**

* * *

Two pairs of knees lied buried in the snow, hands resting on the back of a cold boulder. The haze had cleared, and they feared their icy breaths would betray them.

Stomping feet came marching on the ice-covered earth, every step like one—an unhuman sound, and the mountains surrounding them seemed to tremble every time. The snow swirling before their faces and blowing their fur coats away didn't seem to make a difference. None of those vitreous eyes would flicker once.

The largest, proudest of them held his wide shoulders back and marched first in line. His face was hidden, but when his right arm stretched open all at a sudden, the warriors coming after him stopped in lock step.

" _Sounds_ like we have company."

Hundreds of grey faces turned as one in the same direction. Huffled sounds, blurred and flashing images followed, and two men found themselves out of their hideout, on the cold ground, eating ice and mud. A man's towering shadow approached.

"Look who's here. Worms from the earth."

The two exchanged a look and then slowly lifted their heads to look at the figure hovering over them. A pair of ice-blue eyes glimmered in a sinister grin, while the rest of the face was completely shadowed by the fur cloak.

"Two _soldiers_ from the fancy Earth Kingdom we have here." With his foot he gave a slight, scornful enough nudge at their conical helmets. "Someone was so excited to meet us they had to find us first. Where is the rest of your army?"

The soldiers didn't speak straight away, though one of them appeared to be struggling to keep his eyes on the ground. "We were sent in advance by General Hao to search the valley", the more acquiescent one said.

"Your General is a cautious man", the chief said, mockingly. "We should get him some more clues, so he can come to find us sooner. We were bored waiting for him." He turned his head to a man on his right. "Make sure our prisoners find their way back to their general; they'll tell him we'll be waiting for their coming so we can get it over with these games as soon as we can. And then we'll be ready to push the worms right back down into the mud."

The man he had addressed turned to the soldiers and roughly lifted them both from off the ground. "You heard what he said", he whispered, close to their ears, before pushing them away. They both fell hard on the ground, and the men laughed in a horrible manner.

"You won't stand a chance!"

One of the soldiers, the one who had struggingly kept quiet before, had risen up fiercely and spoken with his voice shaking, but loud and clear, before the other could stop him.

"The Earth King has gathered the greatest armed force ever seen and you have no power to defeat it! The three Nations _altogether_ will seek you and find you and _destroy_ every single one of you!"

His mate grabbed him down when it was too late. Never had his gaze moved while he was speaking, and neither did he after he finished.

"That sounds... _interesting"_ the leader finally grinned. "But wouldn't that be _unfair?_ We would be rather outnumbered, don't you think?"

The man didn't reply this time. Seeing the face those words were pronounced with, all at once it was hard to trust they shouldn't be feared even more.

"Now go," the chief said. "And salute the _three Nations_ for me."

The two men hesitated, but they had to obey when they felt the ground sliding under their feet.

"How many men do you need to deliver a message?" the chief casually asked the man beside him.

They both gazed at the soldiers running down the valley.

"Only one" the man grinned, as a thick body hit the cold ground with a dull sound.

* * *

"Okay, Katara. Hold it together."

She pulled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. It was hard to fill her lungs properly with the wrappings so tight on her chest, yet she feared it wouldn't be enough. She almost floated in her brother's clothes and boots. As much as she tightened the belt, the shirt fell loose over her shoulders—suddenly she had a feeling she looked like a crutch.

"You can do this, Katara. Remember, you _can_ do this! Just breathe in and-"

She sighed at the muffle sound of something heavy hitting the ground. The sword sheath had dropped again from her back. She patiently picked it up and straightened up to start all over.

If she wanted to look like a man, she needed to _act_ like a man. Talk like a man, walk like a man. That would have been enough of a start. To look like a _warrior—_ that would take much more time. _What does Sokka do when he wants to seem tough?,_ she thought. She pictured her brother showing off in front of girls, walking with his usual confident, carefree mannerism _—_ shoulders back, chin up, a supposedly badass look on his face.

Katara shook her head before even trying to imitate him, and grabbed her face in her palms. For a moment, she considered turning on her feet and running back home as fast as she could. She found herself wondering if that was ever a good idea. Who was she expecting to fool? " _You're just a girl",_ Sokka used to say when they were little, and he refused to let her play swordsfight with him. " _You could barely hold this—it's too heavy. This is boy's stuff,"_ and then he got back to messing around with his wooden sword, leaving Katara out of words.

 _No._ Not this time. She wouldn't let him win this time. Sokka was wrong, and she never managed to prove it before. She was thin and little, her face round and her skin smooth, and okay, she was definitely far from looking like a boy from a close watch, but she felt like was _strong enough._ And if she had a chance to try, she could not give it up.

She took a deep breath, fixed the shirt on her shoulders one last time and peeped through the leaves. The boot camp fences were just a hundred feet away.

With her lips pursed, she stepped out of the bushes. Now there was no turning back. She trailed her ostrich-horse behind as she approached the tents that were closest to her.

 _This is it, Katara,_ her own voice said in her mind, _you're here. Watch your posture. Shoulders back, chest out, deep voice... And low profile. At any cost._

As she went—trying to keep control on her walk and expression—she could focus little on what she saw; but still, the cheerful atmosphere and the lively coming and going across the tent lines didn't fail to give her that persistant, unpleasant feeling of being out of place. Now even more than before, every step she took got her feet burning. She realized she was walking down some sort of stairway that would disappear behind her back.

She looked around discreetly, eager to learn what she could. Outside her family, men were still a bit of a mystery to her, so one can imagine the impact of seeing thousands of grown males all gathered in a war camp would have. Surprise was quickly surpassed by a certain discomfort. An intense smell of burned and stale food, along with more human scents like sweat and cheap perfums, filled the air and crept in her nose in a way that was hard to remove. A couple men were smoking long pipes and their overly sweetish fumes nearly got her coughing. She noticed a few tents where two or more people were extremely busy with a Pai Sho game. Others were hunging wet clothes to dry, or eating, or arm-wrestling or practicing fighting.

Katara realized she had to be in a somewhat Earth Kingdom quarter of the camp, since where she was, most of the recruits wore uniforms of different shades of green. Even so, she could recognize here and there Fire Nation and Water Tribe people from their red and blue outfits, and she guessed many more of them could be found in other areas. The three remaining of the historical Four Nations gathered together in one place. It was not something to be seen every day.

More than anything else, the boot camp was loud with chatter, and recruits were walking from side to side anytime; at least a dozen times Katara went unnoticed and very often crushed, and she was growing quite dismayed at not receiving any sorry.

It was that one time she was almost hit by a man and his rhino, she stepped back just in time and stumbled upon someone's foot and shoulder.

"Hey, kid, look where you're going."

A young, nasal and smooth voice had spoken to her quite casually, though Katara turned around with a gasp. She was soon gobsmacked as she saw a handsome young man staring back at her; he had shaggy, unruly brown hair falling on his frown, but his dark eyes certainly were captivating. She blinked and all at once she was aware that he was just a few inches away from her. She stepped back, fighting an unintended blush, but she was almost crushed again by a cart passing by.

"Hey, are you deaf? I was talking to you."

The guy was speaking again, holding his sprig of wheat in his fingers as he did, but Katara didn't realize it straight away. In reality, she'd hoped he would just walk past her, but he was still there, addressing to her in a slight confrontational way. Why did guys have to be this unnecessarily peevish to each other?

 _Think, Katara, think. What would a boy say now?_

"Uh... Excuse me. What do you want?" she replied in the best manly manner she could make up. That was the most aggressive answer she managed to come up with after a few seconds thinking. She didn't want to mess around, but acting that way seemed to be a good way to build a solid disguise.

"Okay, you gotta be kidding" he said with an condescending grin. "Watch out next time, little one."

The pretty boy had turned to walk away as he muttered something, and suddenly his stomach hit the ground with a resounding thump _._ A water string tied around his ankle was trailing him back.

"Who's the little one now?" she grinned, proudly and surprised it actually worked. "That's what happens when you pick a fight. You're just an immature... _ill-mannered_... uh..."

She shut her mouth when she realized she was out of words. At least the ones that suited a war camp scuffle. That insolent guy had her quite enraged, though, and as always she couldn't hold her temper. Maybe she was getting carried away, but she was too worked-up now to worry about that. _Low profile, for sure,_ she thought, wondering if she should release him. Just for a moment, however, since her bending was not strong enough to last that long and the good-looking boy had jumped on his feet already. He was getting close, his hand resting on the hook sword on his side, and judging by his menacing face, he had to be lightly hurt in his pride. Katara stared at him bewildered, unsure what to do.

"What's your problem?! I was just telling you-"

"Jet" a new, calm voice intervened. "Jet, I've been looking for you, they're about to—what's going on?" The person who had spoken was another surprisingly good-looking boy in a bright green outfit, with long brown hair and kind eyes.

"This little folk here was just asking for a lesson," Jet answered nonchalantly.

He didn't notice early enough another water whip coming his way, and Katara was once again happily surprised when she managed to knock him down again, tough that unintentionally included his friend.

"What... hey!" the new boy muttered, and Katara bit her lip.

"You want trouble, don't you?"

Katara didn't bother answering, because she was busy trying to keep her balance after the earth had just moved under her feet. _An earthbender,_ she thought, watching the kind boy in green move his foot heavily. Jet pulled out his hook sword like he was seriously ready for a fight.

Katara squeezed her eyes, waiting for him to strike—and one moment later she was surprised to feel a hand push her backwards.

"Get out of the way!"

"Easy, guys, easy" a familiar voice had made its entrance, and when Katara opened her eyes to see, she almost choked. "Sh-he was only playing, I'll bet, weren't you, _buddy_?"

Katara had too little breath left to actually give an answer. She just stared at Sokka, her eyes almost popping out.

"Yeah, sure he was." Despite his attitude, though, Jet put down his swords.

"Come on, Jet," the other guy intervened, "maybe we were getting overly heated up."

"Yeah, yeah," Sokka smiled and widened his arms, "That's just how it was, I'm sure! How about we start all over with a presentation _and_ an apology?"

"Sokka?" Katara was finally able to whisper through her teeth. "What-..." A look from him reminded her not to speak any further.

While Jet had his mouth still curled in disdain, the boy in green was smiling kindly at her and bowing. "Sounds neat. I'm Haru, and this is Jet."

Katara grunted. It was hard enough to hold back from grabbing Sokka by the ear and yell at him. "I'm not apologizing to anyone! He's the one who should apologize, for the matter", she exclaimed pointing a finger at Jet.

" _You_ started it! He started it!" he replied exasperated, and turned to the others, pointing at Katara with his open palm. Then he shook his head. "Look, whatever. I've had enough of pathetic bending."

"What are you, a kid?" Katara said boldly, crossing her arms on her chest. "I could knock you down with one finger and my eyes closed."

"Katara, _please..."_ Sokka muttered between his teeth, but in vain.

"Is that a challenge?" Jet grinned, swirling his swords in circles.

"What do you say?" Katara heard her voice say, as she struggled to summon more water she knew she could hold; she was feeling invincible all at once. The last things she could see clearly was her brother rush towards her, and a flood of tents and poles and people all around.

When it was done she looked around, uncertain what had happened, and gaped. Dozens of men were all staring at her and they were looking not exactly amused.

A few feet from there, a tent's entrance flapped open and the four men sitting inside brught their gazes up to the one who entered.

"Long Feng. We meet again, at last," a bearded, gentle old man greeted him with a warm smile and a bow. "Under very different circumstances, though."

"General Iroh," the man answered in his deeply polite, yet no-nonsense manner. "What a pleasant sight. The Dragon of the West is back in the Earth Kingdom. And he brings two young Fire princes, too. I can't believe my eyes."

No one answered to his flamboyant remark. The two men he had referred to as _princes_ exchanged a silent look. One had a square face and thick sideburns framing his jaw. The younger one, who bore a scarlet scar on his left eye and a crown over his topknot, couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing a bit.

"General Fong, did I interrupt anything?" Long Feng asked the sturdy soldier sitting on his side.

"We were just finishing to fix our strategy for the next move," the General quickly informed. He gestured to the open map before him. "According to our latest reports, the enemy has been intercepted two times since their first appearance—two days ago, when they raided and destroyed a village on the Tiankong peak, and last night, close to the pass of Baki, by two soldiers sent in an outpost."

"They're marching across the mountains, but it's taking them longer than we supposed at first," the prince with sideburns intervened. "They came to know they're outnumbered. I have an idea they're wasting time, waiting to receive reinforcement."

"Or maybe it's a trap," the boy with the scar intervened, breaking his silence. Everyone looked at him. His voice sounded raspy and raw, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time. "Maybe that's what they want you to think."

"Either you're right or not, we have no choice but to attack as soon as we can, Prince Zuko," General Fong said dryly. "If we have a chance to get them when they're vulnerable and before they get too close to the edge of the mountainchain, we must take it. We can't risk."

"I think-"

"You heard the General, Crown Prince Zuko," Long Feng cut him off, as gracefully as peremptorily. "Remember you're not the king in _this_ war, Your Highness."

The prince twisted his mouth in resentment, clearly wanting to say something, but he kept quiet. Then again, Long Feng was not looking at him anymore.

"So what were you planning to do, Prince Lu Ten?" He was speaking to the older prince, sitting next to Prince Zuko.

"This is what we have agreed upon. General Fong and I are heading to the mountains, so we can stop their advance as soon as we can. Down south, on the other side of the river, General Hao's armed corps will be making a further defense line, in the extreme case it's needed." Here, there prince blinked confidently and brought his finger on some lines drawn on the map. "We will trace their movements and surround them as soon as we intercept their route. We have the advantage of technology, which will greatly optimise our times when moving across the mountainchain. From here, it will take us around two or three weeks of travel, if my estimates are correct, and if we're lucky we'll get by with a few hours of battle." The prince paused and touched his sideburns. "As for my cousin Zuko, he will stay here until further notice, to train and then lead his army of new recruits wherever they're needed." The prince stopped again and grinned a little before he continued. "But hopefully that won't be necessary and it will all be over as soon as possible. With three elements combined and highly advanced weapons on our side, we have no odds against us."

"Brilliant strategy, Your Highness," Long Feng commented, and then he glanced at Prince Zuko. "I can't hide my perplexities, however, on how a boy so young will be able to take such a huge and... _difficult_ armed corp _alone._ Not that I doubt his _inherited_ talent, of course—but experience is most needed."

Prince Zuko opened his mouth, but General Iroh was faster than him. "I guarantee my nephew is completely capable of the task he has been assigned. I have trained him for years myself and I think I can tell he's ready. Besides, it was the Fire Lord's will for him to be _lieutenant general_ of these troops." He stopped for a moment and smiled at the young prince. "I will be here to assist him."

"You'll see it yourself, Long Feng," Prince Lu Ten cut in shortly, "and you'll report that to the King, as he requested."

Long Feng bowed respectfully. "As you wish, General."

General Fong was the first to get up on his feet. "I think it's time to go, Prince Lu Ten."

The prince nodded and followed the general. But right on the doorway, he turned to General Iroh.

"See you in a few weeks, Dad."

The Dragon of the West smiled so brightly his eyes glimmered in reflection. Quickly enough, the son was buried in the father's arms.

"Take care of this brave little soldier here," Lu Ten later winked at Prince Zuko, who smiled and let his cousin playingly pat his cheek. "We're counting on you, Zuko. I believe you can do it. Take these troops and make them great. You're going to surprise all those that don't think you can."

The young prince nodded gravely and waited as his uncle gave his last recommendations to his son. Lu Ten already had a foot out of the tent when Zuko suddenly called his name again.

"Lu Ten, wait." He hesitated. "Have you heard anything from Azula? And my Father?"

Lu Ten made an affirmative gesture. "As we speak, Azula must be already in Ba Sing Se. As for your father, he's not leaving the Capital yet. But he wrote that he's going to join her as soon as he can."

Zuko nodded and kept quiet.

"I wouldn't worry about her," Lu Ten teased. "I have a feeling she will get by."

"I'm not worried about her."

Lu Ten smiled. "Okay, okay, off with that, I'll just tell them you say hello. See you soon, cousin."

Then the tent opening fell closed behind his back. "Stay here, son. I'll be back shortly," Uncle told Zuko. He waited alone inside, until the fiery gallop of rhinos and ostrich-horses was nothing but a faint sound in the distance.

Then, Long Feng's face peeped into the tent. "Your Highness _,_ you better come out and face your troops now. I think they need to be shown some _authority._ "

The prince nodded firmly, took a deep breath, and then stepped out.

"What..." he muttered to himself as soon as he looked around.

Before him, chaos had laid its hand on the camp he had walked through just a few minutes earlier. The ground was flooded with water and now the green grass was stained with muddy pools and icy sheets, here and there. Boiled rice was literally _everywhere—_ Zuko was not quite sure how it could have possibly ended on heads or on _tent tops._ Not to mention _men—his men—_ were mostly a confused, embarrassing lot of clumsy teenage boys running around after each other, some still wrestling or bending, despite his appearance.

It was like watching domino tiles that had just finished falling onto one another—nothing was in its place anymore. And just like domino, the first tile could be found right in the middle, easily recognisable.

"Silence!" the Prince yelled sharply. The men all froze in their places, and stared. " _You,"_ he barked then, furiously, pointing to the tiny young boy with Water Tribe clothes he had seen first.

Katara swallowed and dropped her water while everyone else, except for Sokka, made a step back. The angry boy was coming her way—and judging from his flaming eyes, it meant nothing good.

* * *

 **A/N: So, here we have finally introduced Zuko. Yasss. Also Sokka. Things are starting to get tricky now.**

 **I just realized the links in my profile are not working, and that fanfiction has blocked any kind of link to external sites. So I'm looking for a way for my art and other important stuff to be easily found. Meanwhile, you can visit my tumblr (paintedfirelady is the url), there you'll find pretty much everything. As for the map, which is the most important thing for this story, the only thing you can do is google "avatar world map" and check the best results. There is a huge detailed map with nice looking drawings, villages and everything and you should easily find it. I'm sorry about this but for now it's the only way :/**

 **However, I managed to update today and respect my deadline (yay!) but it's past 2:30 a.m. and though I've re-read this chapter again and again one might never know. As always, if anything is uncorrect, even just a typo, don't refrain from letting me know :) any advice is warmly accepted. I'm also thinking of getting a beta reader soon.**

 **Okay, that's all for now. See you guys in one or two weeks, once again!**


	7. Chapter VI - Introductions

**_Chapter VI_ \- Introductions**

* * *

Katara barely had the time to blink, before she found him quickly approaching.

"You have exactly thirty seconds to explain _what happened_."

He had to be a little older than her—around two or three years. A small crown the shape of a flame held his black hair in a small, messy topknot; his eyes shined like pure gold, his shoulders framed in official coal-black armour and a crimson suit. It could only mean one thing.

 _Fire Nation AND royalty,_ a voice in her head answered readily. Katara instinctively felt like taking a few steps back.

But now that he was close, she vaguely noticed it was hard to look him straight in the face. It took her a few seconds to realize the reason was a large scar, disfiguring a good portion of the left side of his face, making what was left of his eye into just a little fissure. The scarlet shape of a flame spread to his ear and temple. How could such a young face bear such a painful mark? Why did a child of the sun bear the scar from his own source of life?

"Didn't you hear me? As your _general_ , I am talking to you and I demand to be answered."

His harsh tone resounded in Katara's ears and made her shudder. "I am sorry. I got... carried away."

"This is not the kind of attitude I will accept in my army . Is I clear, soldier?"

Katara had to forcibly bring herself to give an affirmative answer.

"What is your name, soldier?" he asked then, backing up a little.

"My... name." Katara felt her stomach drop. _How could I not figure this out earlier?,_ she thought in frustration. She threw an imperceptible glance at Sokka, looking for help—but he had stepped back into the crowd and was shaking his head hopelessly. "Sure, my name. My name is..." _Toqqar? Shun? Let me think... Kai? No, too Earth Nation. What about... "_ Kahn." She paused and tried to look confident. "Kahn, son of Chief Hakoda from the Southern Water Tribe."

" _Kahn,"_ the boy repeated warily in his irritating, hoarse voice, attentively studying her from top to bottom, which on impulse made her want to slap him in the face. "Southern Water Tribe? I thought you were... _extinct_."

"Well, you should check your sources a little better," Katara said a little too boldly. "We're alive and kicking."

A few steps away, Sokka was by then gnawing on his hand. A couple coughs came from the crowd of men behind them, along with a few awestruck cries. "Yeah, _two_ of you made it out of there," someone's distant voice pointed out.

"Silence," the Fire Nation boy said loud and commanding. "Where is your conscription notice?" he bit at her.

She handed him the scroll out without a word and waited as he skimmed trough it. She pretended not to hear Sokka's suffocated moans behind her. There was no turning back. She was to be officially enlisted now, and there was nothing she or her brother could do about it.

"Chief Hakoda... I feel like I've heard this name before."

"Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe," a voice said from behind the boy. "One Hundred Years war. If I remember correctly, his name became glorious after he sunk our entire southern fleet," the elderly kind man concluded simply with a blithe smile. He was coming their way, hands on his belly. "Is it _that_ Chief Hakoda you're talking about?"

Katara nodded and pretended to ignore the look the boy gave her. "Well, what do you know," he remarked, more to himself. A sudden change in the boy's face saved Katara from opening her big mouth once again.

"Is that... a _necklace_?" he sqeezed his eyes to look better, and they were lying on her neck.

Katara instinctively brought her hand to the pendant, suddenly out of words to say. She had forgotten to take it off _._ What kind of fool would do that?

"This is, uhm," she stuttered for a few seconds, that seemed to last one eternity. "This is... my mom's bethrotal necklace," she suddenly managed to say, and regretted it immediately. "She gave it to me so I can think of her... in case I would miss her. You know how boys are: your mom is always mom," she tried to conclude with a nervous smile. Laughter and giggling rose from the crowd behind her. If there was a way to make it any worse, she had found it.

The young general made a gesture with his hand. "You better take that off. You're a grown man and a soldier now, this is no place for playing with fancy jewelry _."_

Katara swallowed as she watched him walk away, fearing he had seen through her.

But as he turned around again, in front of her and the rest of the soldiers, he was staring at them all. "I want _everything_ back where it was within curfew," he growled. "And tomorrow, _the real work begins._ _"_

Katara was reluctantly trying to turn and face the angry soldiers muttering behind her back, when the general spoke again. "And _you,_ " he pointed right at her, "you will have the special task of running along the perimeter of the camp ten times before dinner time. At least you will save your energy for something more productive than destroying my camp. _Is that clear?_ "

Katara heard more chuckling behind her and crossed her arms at the note of hauteur in his words. Notonce in her life had someone spoken to her in such a pretentious manner, and it really had no relevance if he was her superior. Enough was enough.

"Who do you think you are to talk that way to me?" she snarled. "I am your soldier, _not_ your subject. I deserve respect, even though I'm not Fire Nation."

Surprisingly, he turned to her and though his face still looked sculpted from granite, a slight shade of chagrin flashed across his traits. "Listen carefully, soldier. My name is Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai and Crown Prince of the Fire Nation." As he spoke, he spoke to everyone. "I've been assigned to be lieutenant general of these divisions, for which I will directly acount to my superiors." He paused a moment. "My father sent me here to fullfill the agreements settled with the Earth King and it is my _duty_ to _honor_ the task I've been given, as much as it's _yours_ to bring honor your own nations. Whether we like it or not, we're here to _get along_ with each other. Is that clear?"

"Yes, your Highness," the men said as one.

Suddenly, Katara felt her ears sting oddly and her stomach ache. A lot of mixed emotions had been triggered by those words, and she was not sure if it was just because of the waythe prince had spoken them.

"You will learn to behave yourself in front of your superiors," he muttered then, talking to her.

Katara closed her eyes and nodded once, fighting all her muscles in order to bow slightly before the boy she had to get used to calling "prince". When she looked again, he was gone.

The grumbling behind her increased, and Katara felt each stare on her like punches on all her limb; but she had to keep her head high and her eyes cold, until she could find some peace of mind to finally process all that had just happened and find a solution. So she strode through the piercing stares, her blank expression fixed on her features. At least until an abrupt tug on her arm pulled her away, after which she found herself in a shadowed corner, safely hidden from the murmuring crowd.

"Okay. I'll try to put it simple." Sokka was clearly working hard on his tone as he spoke. "What. Was. Going. Through. Your. HEAD!" he growled between his teeth.

"Me? What are _you_ doing here in the first place?" Katara laughed nervously. Her mind was functioning again, and now facing Sokka had abruptly brought her biggest concern back. "If you thought I was going to close an eye on you showing up here, forget it, Sokka. Don't bother unpacking your things. You better go home _now_ before I get mad."

Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe this. You're trying to _mother_ me. Even now..."

"Enough with that nonsense, Sokka. I _demand_ you go home now or else I'll... I'll..."

"You're not serious, are you?" was shaking his head. "You've gone _crazy_ and you need to go home _now_. You have no _idea_ what you have got yourself into. If they catch you-"

"You know what is crazy?" Katara remarked, her tone increasing dangerously. "Calling wounded, helpless men to war demanding they should leave their homes and families with no _protection!_ Or forcing boys who barely even... shave themselves yet to be torn apart from their families, just so they can go risk their lives and follow the rules of one of those-those Fire Nation _tyrants!_ "

"Katara, stop talking like that," Sokka implored as he squeezed her arms. "Calm down.

Listen, you clearly need some time to realize what you've done. It's too soon now, I understand. But it's okay. You're going home before daylight, I promise. Just give me a few hours to figure this out and we-"

"And then _what,_ Sokka?" she widened her arms. "It's too late now. I gave Prince Grumpy over there our family's conscription scroll, remember?" She stared in glorious spite as Sokka dropped his jaw at the realization. "I'm officially in as Chief Hakoda's son and there's no way to go back."

"You can still _run,_ Katara! Leave this place before anyone notices. I'll stay here and fix things up for you... somehow."

"I don't think so," she replied. "There's no way I'm going to leave you here alone."

Sokka sighed and ran his hands across his head. Once again, he nervously looked around. "Katara, why did you do this?" His voice on the edge of cracking. He sounded powerless, heart-breakingly powerless.

"You know why."

Katara's eyes had widened as she stared deep into her brother's.

Sokka sighed again. This time a longer pause followed. "What are we going to do, then?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

"What else could 'nothing' mean?"

"I mean... how can we possibly get out of this?"

"I don't know. As for me, I'll just... do what they want me to do," Katara hunched her shoulders.

"But that's not the _point..._! Katara, for the last time, this is serious. This is a real war. You could hurt yourself... _seriously._ "

"Oh, so that is what you think?" she sneered. "And let's see, what do you think makes you more qualified than _me_ to do this?"

"I just think there's a reason they called _men_ and not women to fight in this army."

"I am still a bender, while _you're not._ "

Katara repented. She had really said that, but it was what she thought , whether it was fair or not. Sokka's face turned purple, and it took some time for him to reply. "Fine. We'll see what you can do."

" _You're_ not seeing anything. You're leaving in five minutes."

"Here we go again. This is getting ridicoulous," he grumbled. "I came all this way here to look after you. It's just like you said, I'm not going anywhere without you. There's no way I'm doing that."

"You shouldn't be here either. I came all this way to keep you away from this in the first place. If you stay here, how am I supposed to-"

"Katara..."

"Sokka," she said, imploring this time. "Please. _Leave._ I _need_ you to leave."

"Katara." He had said it in a way that made it impossible not to listen. "Don't act like you're the only one in the world to care about someone."

At those words, the nude, blank reality of what she had done flashed before her eyes. Thoughts, certainties, plans, seemed to suddenly fall and shatter inside of her head, scattering their fragments everywhere. She felt the physical need to hold her temples in her hands, in a vain attempt to put the pieces together.

"Katara! Wait!" Sokka whispered, but as he reached out, she had disappeared into the chaos of the camp—and something told him it was better to let her be gone for a while.

* * *

Katara had been running.

When the sun was about to go down, its still lukewarm rays heavy on her sweat soaked shoulders.

Everything was burning and aching but she kept going.

It had been hard to avoid Jet and his subtle, hateful looks for hours as she worked. Keeping her back on him, she could still sense his glares. A feeling not too different from having actual needles pinned in her neck. His black eyes so full of bitterness—and she couldn't tell if all the resentment was even aimed at her —looked frightening from that distance.

Working silently on the mess she had made, she would barely look up to anyone around her. She hadn't bothered looking for Sokka—then again, he had been nowhere to be seen all through the day. _Better off this way,_ she thought, hoping he had left.

She ran out of breath and came to a stop, hands resting on her knees. She almost made herself smile at the thought of the only two friends she had made that day—a pair of two peaceful, rather quirky waterbenders who told her they used to live in a swamp; and judging from their appearances, Katara could almost believe that. Despite everything, they'd made her laugh when she had seen they had no clue how to rid their brand new uniforms of dirt. It had been comical.

 _It's not going to work that way,_ she couldn't help but say after watching another attempt to bend water up and down the cloth multiple times, only to stare at the mud stains that wouldn't leave. _You have to rub your soap there until it's gone_ , she'd explained, as she made a demonstration. _See?_

The two men had been staring at her in complete awe during the whole process, and when the cloth was finally clean, their warm and sincere amazement had made Katara smile. Soon enough they joined her and their help came in handy, but most of all their off-key swamp-themed songs made the work a little lighter.

Katara was happy she had made friends. Too bad she had made far more enemies.

At the ninth lap, she almost fell onto her knees. She had never stopped although the pain had started after the third one. She could have just cheated and let go of it, no one was watching, but it was not like her. She didn't want to.

After the tenth turn, the sun had set. Katara hit the ground without a sound. As she rested on the grass, a thin string of silver light stared back at her peacefully from the night sky. For the first time that day. aching bones and torn muscles and burning lungs and heavy chest made her feel oddly warm and comfortable.

* * *

She managed to get back to her place—well, the place where she had droppedher stuff,—expecting to find nowhere to sit. But when she got there, she found a welcoming, perfectly built tent standing up.

Katara knew exactly who to blame.

But she was too tired to be mad at him for doing her work. So tired that she allowed herself to smile as she walked in.

After dinner, she had been resting alone for a couple hours, still somehow unable to sleep, when the sound of someone clearing their throat alarmed her.

"Uhm... Katara?" a familiar voice whispered. "It's me"

"Get in! Hurry !"

Sokka rushed in and closed the tent behind him. "Phew. I forgot I should call you by the... other name from now on. Good luck you picked this... well-hidden spot. No one around."

"I chose it on purpose," she shrugged as she embraced her knees, still staring at the ground. "By the way... Thank you, Sokka."

"For what? This? Ah, you don't have to thank me," he smiled and waved his hand. "I figured you would need help building things. You know, _manly stuff,_ right?"

Katara smiled in return, as she knew that was far from being the actual reason.

A brief silence followed. "You know," Sokka sighed and sat down, "You made quite a scene with Prince Grumpy today. It was very foolish of you to keep your necklace on. And the explanation you came up with— _you'll miss your mommy?_ I can't believe you willingly signed up for a destiny of doom _._ I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes."

Katara shrugged. "It was the best thing I could come up with!" she protested.

"Maybe it's not too late to make it up," Sokka brought his hand to his chin, "like, saying you're keeping it for your _girlfriend_ would mark a significant improvement to your reputation. But I'm warning you—in this case, start making up details from now."

Katara laughed. "I didn't think men were _that_ eager of details."

"They are. But don't worry—you have the _best teacher._ "

Katara laughed softly and bit her lip, a thought still stinging in the back of her mind. "I guess now there is no chance to convince you to go back home, is there?"

"You're correct, sis'. I got officially enlisted as a Water Tribe volunteer just a little while ago."

Katara smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this," she said after a while, "I should have known."

"It's okay, Katara. Call me crazy—but I've thought about it, and I do believe that we—that you have a chance to handle this," he said, a little surprised at his own realization. "Sort of. And whatever it is, you always know I've got your back."

"But... Dad," Katara's face had darkened at the sudden thought. "Does he know you're here? He must be broken right now."

"He didn't want me to come at first; he had to let me go. Don't underestimate Dad, Katara," he asserted. "He's not that kind of man. He'll be fine. _We_ 'll be fine."

"You think so?" she asked sadly.

"Yeah. Definitely." Sokka's expression made it hard to reply.

Another pause followed, as Katara played with her pendant. "Okay, now—you're the idea guy. So what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Sokka had to pull his eyes up from the bowl of rice Katara had left half full.

"A plan. I am completely clueless about... everything. What are we going to do? How are we going to act this scene? I'm going to need help if I want them to fall for it, and-"

"Slow down and listen," Sokka said, lifting one finger. "I've got _everything_ under control. There is no need of a properplan for now. The only thing you have to keep in mind is—stay alive. And keep a low profile."

Katara hunched in her shoulders, thinking of what had happened the last time while she was keeping her profile "low". "Yeah, I already knew that, but..."

"Katara, it's okay. Training starts tomorrow; but if you avoid drawing attention, you're not as noticeable as you think you are. You just have to _appear_ comfortable. That's the secret: be sure of who you are and others will be sure as well. It'll be easier than you think. For now, we just have to do what they tell us to do. If we're lucky, we won't even have to worry about setting foot on a battlefield. Clear?"

Katara rolled her eyes, as she had finally followed the direction of her brother's gaze. "Come on, Sokka. I'm not eating that. It's all yours."

Sokka's eyes glimmered and he started to chomp on the rice, which disappeared over a few mouthfuls. "Well, thank you! I'm so hungry I could eat a whole platypus bear!"

Katara sighed and shook her head. "I thought you'd had dinner with the others after sunset."

"I did," he shrugged in the most genuine way. "Hey, about this," he added as he got on his feet, "I have to go now. That Haru guy asked me and some others to come over for a gaming night and stuff _—_ you should come. It would be an occasion for you to learn a few things."

Katara shrug her shoulders. "Actually, I... I don't think it's the right time for that. I just want to rest a little. But you should totally go. I'll be fine."

Sokka stared at her. "Oh. Okay. I understand. Well, you better rest well—tomorrow will be a hard day and you will need all your girly strenght to keep up with _me,_ " he grinned playlingly.

Katara's lips curled. "We'll see who runs faster, ponytail guy."

* * *

 **A/N: Most important: thanks to the awesome Seleina Bellamy for helping me with this chapter and beta-reading it!**

 **Hope you liked this chapter. So here we finally have Zuko and Katara interacting! Zuko was extremely difficult to handle in this part, for some reason. I just wanted to clarify one thing: Zuko's position in the army. Mind that I made him general, or, more precisely, lieutenant general of Lu Ten. As a prince, he had to be something more than a simple captain like Shang, but he still has to abide by Lu Ten's orders.**

 **As for the rest, I just hope you enjoy this story and where it's going :) as always, I have made some art—a small doodle of Katara's new look after the haircut. You can find it on my tumblr (for which you can just google paintedfirelady).**

 **I am REALLY sorry for this chapter coming so late. Real life and duties keep getting in the way and I never found time for this. I'm afraid the next chapter will take just as much—not only for my lack of time but mostly because I have to rewrite entire parts of my old original draft.**

 **But after that, everything will come down easier :)**

 **See you guys soon!**


	8. Chapter VII - Real Work

**A/N: this time I had to post without the help of my lovely beta-reader Seleina Bellamy (for now). So, no matter how many times I've read this chapter, there's sure going to be some kind of grammar/lexicon mistake. If you notice anything, I'll be glad if you let me know :)**

 ** _Chapter VII_ – Real work**

* * *

Katara fixed her small wolf tail and her clothes—her brother's clothes—before she walked out, in the light of the dawning sun. Sokka had said they would head together to the gathering, but he was nowhere to be seen, and Katara didn't want to be late on the first day.

The wide clearing on the outskirts of the camp was teeming with what had to be the great majority of the troops. Katara made her way through the crowd, and only settled when she neared the first few rows, hoping to get a better view from there. The time for the appointment had come and the ranks were quickly arranging into a neater shape; Prince Zuko and his officials were expected to appear at any moment. Katara looked around nervously, still hoping to spot Sokka. Instead, she found Jet standing by her side—sure he wasn't happier than she was, judging from the quick look he gave her. She looked away.

She noticed most of the recruits had settled in separate groups based on their nation. Forcing herself out of an initial hesitation, Katara stepped out and found her place in the first row of the Water Tribe troop. Being surrounded with _blue_ again immediately felt bizarre, rather than anything else she expected.

The Fire Nation recruits caught her attention as soon as her eye fell upon them. It was the first time she saw Fire Nation soldiers after years, as her tense fists immediately reminded her. And yet, it was different from what she remembered. They were out of armors, and for the most part they were all young and supposedly inexperienced—but that was not all about it. Katara saw the faces of these boys—the children of those who had killed her mother—and, simply, she didn't see _monsters_. They were not attacking her like her nightmares would do every night—of course they weren't. They were barely looking at her. And they were talking to each other, laughing, and joking...

 _Allies,_ her mind suggested. She bit her lip. She saw a fine line between an ally and an enemy, and that always bothered her.

 _Humans._ For now, that sounded much better.

Her thoughts were silenced when everyone around her seemed to assume a steadier stance. She just did the same.

The Prince stood before them, wearing a crimson and maroon kimono, locks of black hair falling over his eyes. No crown, no armor either. His face looked just as _hardened_ as the day before—though in the sunrise, Katara thought she noticed the paleness of his skin merge with the morning light and his face beam in a slight way.

A smaller group of people had followed him. Among the rear lines, Katara glimpsed elaborated military garments and armor pieces of blue, red, green—the highest ranking officials of all three nations. The first row, instead, caught her attention—it was made of older men, each with a different gleam to their eyes from that of the soldiers standing with them.

Katara recognized the kind old man the Prince had called his uncle, and he was smiling like a good, warm breakfast had just restored his harmony with the universe.

On his left, a little deatched, stood another man who caught Katara's attention. Dark robes, emerald eyes, long limbs and thin mustache; his gaze seemed to linger attentively on everything passing before his eyes, not a glimpse of emotion slipping through. When they met Katara's for a moment, they got her flinching a bit.

"Good morning, everyone." The prince's gruff salute was followed by a loud answer from his soldiers.

"Excuse me... sorry." Katara's eyes instantly pinned on those of her brother, who was making his way to her side.

The prince stared in their direction. "You're late, soldier."

"I know. I apologize, Sir," Sokka said out of breath.

"This is the last time we're tolerating latecomers to the morning assembly," the prince replied dryly. "You can all call me just Prince Zuko, by the way," he added a few instants later.

A short silence followed.

"For anyone who doesn't know yet, we're here because a new, dangerous enemy is threatening the Earth Kingdom," prince Zuko resumed. His stern expression could have conveyed confidence, if not for that vague shade of bitterness that wouldn't abandon his traits and his burnt skin. "The Earth King wanted new recruits at any cost, and here they are. However, chances are _we won't have to enter the fight_. "

Katara heard some people groan and mumble objections between their teeth, while others were sighing in relief. She held her breath.

"Still, I was given three weeks to complete your training, and trust me—I will. Just because you're only here as reserves, don't think for a second we will spare you anything."

"I don't think you're in the position to teach anything to any of us."

The words had flown out clear and blunt, and they were certainly not being regretted. Katara stared at Jet, then at Sokka. Her brother just looked quite surprised—everyone did—still Katara fought herslef not to sympathize with Jet for that.

The prince said nothing, but he wouldn't resume his speech.

Katara didn't realize until then her eyes were resting on that same electric, cold emerald gaze she had escaped before. She escaped again.

"You're about my age and you're in charge of an army," Jet continued, with a smirk. "Must be a lot easier when you have a crown on your head, right?"

"You're a soldier. Learn that you're not allowed to speak without permission." Zuko tried to act cool, though his voice betrayed him.

Jet sniggered. "Funny how, with all your family has done to us, you're still the one to make the rules. Isn't it?"

The prince's face was now livid, his nose a few inches away from Jet's. Jet, for his part, didn't bat an eyelid, and Katara felt an unwanted rush of admiration for him.

"Now listen, you _filthy-_ "

"Prince Zuko."

The prince didn't finish his phrase.

The reprimand that had resonated behind him made he step away from Jet, whose ferocious gaze, however, didn't leave his opponent.

"Now listen carefully, everyone." Zuko finally resumed, and crossed his arms on his chest. "Every morning, from now on, you will come here at sunrise. Benders shall train under the guidance of the Masters." The older men lined up behind him all bowed in greeting. "You will have intensive sessions every day to practice your bending skills and master your element," the prince continued, and as he spoke, Katara kept her eyes fixed on the only waterbending master who caught her attention—she would have known his face from yards away. It was Master Pakku, standing upright with a look that was somewhere between indifference and peeve, aimed at no one in particular. Katara had to keep her knees from suddenly collapsing.

"But first," she heard the prince talking, "just because you can bend, don't think that means you can just skip the basics. Because that's where _my_ job starts."

Katara swallowed and tried to look away from Pakku—if she kept staring at him so insistently, there was a good chance he would notice her, sooner or later. Her anguish was momentarily soothed when the Masters bowed and left the clearing. Only a small group of people didn't move, and Pakku was fortunately not one of them.

"Your Highness."

It was that man with emerald eyes again, who had come to the prince's side, and was now talking to his ear, his lips barely moving at all.

"I think the time has come to start our _practice._ "

The prince nodded slowly, and turned to his audience. "Get ready for the first _test_ , because we're starting right now."

 _A test?_ Since she had left home, Katara had known she wasn't prepared for anything she was running into. A test, though, was definitely not in her plans.

Only when she distractedly brought her attention back to the prince, she found his shirt had gone. Disguised as she was, _or maybe because of it,_ she couldn't help shifting her weight awkwardly and found herself looking away.

"Step forward, Water Tribe."

Katara gasped and held her breath. Then, she glimpsed Sokka make a move with the corner of her eye.

"What's your name?"

"Sokka," he answered plainly.

"Sokka. What is that?"

It took everyone a while to figure out the prince was looking over Sokka's shoulder, where his favourite weapon stuck out.

"This?—this is my trusty boomerang." He handed it to the prince with a smile, Katara knew just how unwillingly.

"Water Tribe war manufacture," the prince commented, seemingly to himself. "You won't need this today, though."

Sokka shrugged. "I would have left it home—but it always comes back to me."

Katara rolled her eyes at the predictable joke; a few giggles that followed were quickly interrupted by a gesture by prince Zuko, who was walking away with the boomerang, to Sokka's increasing dismay. "Well, Sokka," he smirked mildly from the middle of the clearing, "This time, I wouldn't be so sure about it."

Sokka was too confused to reply; instead, he focused on watching Zuko stick the boomerang into the ground, then step back.

Shortly after, the earth was shaking. Katara stared at her feet in confusion, and instinctively grabbed Sokka's arm. The whole army took a step back, feeling a shadow spread over their heads. Katara then looked up again. The boomerang now shined on top of a massive cliff, that had just sprung out from the depths of the earth.

Zuko's voice broke the silence. "Thanks, Master Ren." An unnoticed, tall man in green robes bowed gently, the usual Earth Kingdom manner.

Everyone craned their neck to stare at the summit of the steep slope, its upper portion cut across by the sunlight.

"Go get it back, Sokka," the prince said then, a slight curve on his lips.

 _Well, he's got a chance,_ was Katara's first thought, _he is quite good at climbing._

Instead, Sokka hesitated for a moment and stared at the cliff, probably trying to figure out if there was any trick he was expected to find, to get to the top with no effort. Bodies pressed to one another and whispers intensified, as the rest of the recruits behind Katara were apparently trying to find the solution on their own.

Then, suddenly, everyone shuddered when Sokka dashed towards the cliff, frantically grasping every nub his palms would meet on its surface.

"Wait, soldier. Not so fast."

The prince calling him forced Sokka to stop where he was.

He turned inquiringly, as waiting for Prince Zuko to add he was just kidding or tricking him.

He wasn't.

"What do you-"

"You need to bring somethingwith you."

Sokka blinked. It took a few instants to figure out what another earthbending Master was now holding out to him.

A couple of round plates, a square-shaped hole in the center. Katara remembered suddenly she had seen something similar in some earthending tournament in Makapu, with her brother and father, years before.

Each plate hung from a long piece of tape that was tied around the central holes.

"There must be a mistake. I am no earthbender, or anything like that," said Sokka after a silence.

"That's no mistake. Earthbending won't help you, nor will any other form of bending. This is metal." The prince tapped on one plate with his knuckles, as to make sure no one could be mistaken with the sound of it.

"His Highness prince Zuko forgot to tell you something." The man with green eyes spoke suddenly with a clear, polite voice this time, and Katara didn't miss Zuko's side glance at him. "Bending is not allowed, of course. Not even earthbending." He turned his placid smile to the groaning recruits in the ranks. "Any attempt to outsmart us, we will notice."

The prince cleared his throat. "Thank you, Long Feng."

At Sokka's perplexed expression, the earthbending Master made a polite gesture at his feet.

Watching Sokka unhappily tie the plates around his ankles, Katara started to get a grip on what the challenge actually meant. She could only hardly imagine her body climbing with the weight of pure metal trailing her legs back to the ground.

Katara's hopes for her brother's attempt were quickly disappointed. Soon enough the initial momentumleft room for a sudden stop and a predictable, ruinous slide down over the wall.

Sokka's stubborn nature would usually take over in moments like that. As a result, everyone was staring awkwardly at his furious and always (painfully) unsuccessful attempts to climb that cliff.

"You," the prince suddenly cut it off and pointed at Jet. "Your turn."

Jet looked at Zuko with the usual, malicious lightning in his eyes, and stepped out of his place. Katara raised her brows at such an obiedient reaction. Everyone watched him curiously as he unwillingly grabbed the plates from Sokka's hands. He made it a little higher than his predecessor; his attempt, however, had no better luck, just like the others that followed.

"Kahn." After hearing so many names called, Katara's fake name resonated in her ears as the first sound after hours of complete silence. "It's Kahn, right?" She swallowed and nodded.

Katara's first attempt was violent and brief. The harder she pushed, the harder gravity pushed her back; for as much as she tried to force her feet to help her, her boots could hardly pin steadily into the friable, muddy rock mass. The weight got her sliding down multiple times, until she ultimately collapsed to the ground.

She barely made it past the first quarter of the climb.

She wanted to try again and again, but at some point she had to leave it to the others. When Zuko sighed after her last attempt, the glare of pure wrath he received made him step back.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've got a _long_ way to go," he said to himself, only heard by Master Piandao next to him.

* * *

The cliff remained untouched since then.

And that, Katara found soon, would only be the beginning.

Days would roll by the same way. Every morning, for a couple hours after sunrise, Zuko would make them work out intensively around the camp. Katara knew the prince and his entourage expected people like _her_ to put on some weight—they would constantly remind how necessary that was, in case one had to survive in the harsh environment of the highest alps. She, however, found she could quite pull it off with that kind of training most of the times, so she always strove to do her best whenever she could. It was always racing, some exercise with poles or ropes, sometimes obstacle courses in extreme environments, other times it was just stretching or meditation and breathing sessions. Zuko's uncle and the other masters insisted on these last two particularily, and the prince would follow, though he clearly didn't seem very fond of that kind of practicing—just like his recruits, after all. Most of them were just young boys who were champing at the bit to go break some real necks.

Because other than exercise, there was actual _fight,_ of course _._ As a bender, Katara wasn't expecting she would have to deal with swordsmanship and archery and hand-to-hand combat, but apparently, it was all part of the basic training for everyone—benders and non-benders. Some non-benders were remarkably skilled already—there was this silent boy Katara had noticed, whose aim was inhumanly perfect, some dared say even better than the master (a retired Yuyan archer and no less). Jet already knew swordsmanship his own (unconventional) way and he was terribly good at it, Katara had to concede it. And Sokka—she knew he was good too. He had spent his life training with his father, waiting for his moment of truth.

She felt his disappointment as her own when he happened to spar with Jet for the first time, and was disarmed almost immediately. But Katara also knew better than himself that he had a strength others didn't. And that would pay off, someday; it was only a matter of time.

Things were different for her, though. She had never actually needed to fight before, and now she ironically regretted it. At the end of the first week of training, she had lost count of all the times she had been knocked out. It was especially infuriating after the one time she had sparred with Prince Zuko himself. Sokka's sorry looks at her bruises were the most annoying part. The one good thing was, she was more and more motivated every time by her increasing dislike for the arrogant prince; and, regardless of the result, she was always hitting harder.

Every day they would leave their tents when the sun was still down, and only returned after daylight was long gone. Katara had noticed how within the first couple days a few faces had disappeared. Sokka said they had been dismissed, as they had proven to be hopelessly unsuited for war. Katara could have thought that she had a chance, as she had passed the first test—but she knew better. Waterbenders were an evident minority compared with other benders, and they had to be cherished. That was part of the reason why she was being spared, and she was aware of it.

Apart from that, the one thing Katara had been looking forward to the most was, in fact, bending.

It was with great disappointment she learned that—out of all five Waterbending Masters available—she had been assigned to Pakku's class.

The first lesson took place on the second day of training, and that afternoon Katara reminded herself keep her face hidden at least a dozen times. It was clear that, if the sour old man recognized the girl he had seen disrespecting him only a few days before, only spirits knew what would become of her.

But surprisingly, he didn't quite seem to pay any attention to her—to an extent, at least.

"Find your stance and don't move until I tell you otherwise," was the very first statement on Master Pakku's first lesson. "You call _that_ a stance?", he sighed a moment later at the attempts of a goofy young boy. And that would only be the beginning. Katara quickly learned that even though she did her best to please the Master and pass unnoticed, she would not avoid her own share of reprimands from Pakku.

He eventually kept them tense on that same stance for one entire hour. So when they were finally ordered to bend water in a tiny whip, Katara was nearly out of strenght to summon water, let alone try to mold it into a deadly weapon. The result was a crooked, thin string that fell down before it could even recall the shape of a ribbon.

" _Embarrassing._ Try again, _"_ was Pakku's only comment, which left Katara much more affected than she'd wanted to be.

The following lessons proceeded similarly, with Pakku often bringing down his students in his detached manner—and Katara was not sure whether failure was actually all he wanted to see in his pupils, refusing to value any of their attempts whatever they were, or deep down it was his own strategy to force their true abilities to come out.

Whatever his ways really aimed at, they got Katara thoroughly invested in learning waterbending, and fighting in general; which, as days went by and the initial, striking fear of being caught faded a bit, was making her much more at ease with her new fake identity.

Then, on the fourth day of waterbending class, something happened.

Master Pakku walked across his class, his eyes narrowed and attentive. As usual, Katara held her breath as he approached her; then he came to a stop, looking straight into her face. Each of his features was tense, an unreadable sparkle on them, and Katara could physically feel all the intensity of his sharp gaze pierce her body.

For a few seconds, the coldest shiver ran down her spine.

Then he blinked, and, his expression unaltered, he opened his mouth to pour out a long, sour rant over Katara's bending skills.

He eventually tied it all up in one long, tired sigh; then he turned and walked away, just as he had come.

* * *

As the first week went by, Katara found the waterbending lessons would get harder and harder every day. All her expectations and childhood dreams on the art of bending came to meet reality for the first time; and she discovered that even though she had been gifted with this talent from her birth, learning to handle it was not just as natural. The moment she really faced this fact for the first time, she realized there was no book or parchment or Master to give her precise instructions, to prepare her for anything. At the end of the day she would be the one fighting for herself, and it was not just about learning—it was about figuring her way out every time.

It was such an obvious concept, but not a reassuring one.

It all got worse when she would compare herself to others. Most of her fellow waterbenders were as young as she was, but they had grown in the North Pole, some had even trained with Master Pakku already. Each one of them, even the most mediocre, knew at least a thing or two about bending. _Easy for them,_ Katara would think bitterly—but then, she told herself, making excuses wouldn't change things.

At times, she felt the gap between herself and the others seemed to get wider, instead of fading away. She had the feeling that for each step forward she was making, the majority of her mates made three at once and it got harder for her to catch up every time.

There were a few times, some of her lowest moments, when she would just blame her weaker body.

Straight after, she would get angry at herself for just the thought of that; and made herself run faster, and hit harder than she'd ever done.

Katara never got a glimpse of other bending lessons, but she'd heard that firebenders were being trained by prince Zuko and his uncle, General Iroh (and Katara was unsure how such a benevolent, peaceful old man could bear such a title as "Dragon of the West"). On the other hand, Sokka seemed obsessed with one of the earthbending teachers who called himself "The Boulder" (no one knew his real name, but looking at him, the nickname sure fit best).

Non-benders had to attend intensive lessons too. Other than basic fighting, they could choose between specific fighting arts such as archery or swordsmanship, as Sokka did.

All the while, from the top of the cliff, Sokka's boomerang still looked patiently down upon them. No one dared to look straight up back—except for Sokka, of course.

Two times a week they were scheduled to work with machinery. The first time Katara saw their armoured vehicles and engines she understood why the lead of the entire mission had been assigned to the Fire Nation—their technology in mechanical weaponry surpassed anything her imagination could conceive. Sokka was an enthusiast about engineering and this natural talent of his was immediately noticed by tenant Ji, who was in charge for war machines.

Katara couldn't say the same for herself, though. As much as she didn't object her brother's fascination, it was something she really couldn't feel comfortable around.

It was, maybe, the fact that she remembered still too vividly what the other side of the tanks looked like.

But she also acknowledged that, in certain circustamnces, one could never be ready enough.

Katara—and the rest of the army—had been told what they needed to know about the enemy. _They can do something to your body,_ Zuko had told them, a slight wince on his features. _Something that was never seen before. Some have called it witchcraft, some even claim it's a legendary fifth form of bending. Whatever it is—it will possess you, move your limbs to their will, and break you, in the end._

He had paused again, his last few words vibrating in Katara's mind like the chill down her spine. A deadly silence had fallen over every face around.

 _The only way to win this war is to figure out the one way we can destroy them from the inside,_ was Zuko's last sentence, that sounded so terrifying to Katara.

* * *

 **A/N again: sooo here we are! It's been... I don't even know how many months, but what matters is that this fic has been finally updated. I'm so, so sorry for that. I swear I had literally no time for anything _fun,_ so writing had to wait. Also, I've been trying to work on this chapter since... November?, because I had to change it so many times. I'm still not happy with the result but hey, I'm finally free and I want to move on. So I hope you guys enjoy it-and I promise I'll be updating much faster during this summer! **

**Thanks to each one of my readers for being supportive and _patient,_** **most of all! Lots of love :***


	9. Chapter VIII - Crescent

**Chapter VIII – Crescent**

* * *

"Your reflexes are too slow."

Zuko's scornful comment made Katara wince—not out of pain, even though her body had just violently shattered onto the ground. She sprung up on her feet again and saw stars for a moment—she tensed her arms as hard as she could, and water embraced them, and she was charging towards her opponent, whose hands were already on fire. It was all so fast she was still confused after she once again landed hard on her chest, hardly breathing from the heat.

"I've told you a thousand times," she heard the prince say from a distance, as some unidentified hand helped her up, "you have to _think._ _Watch_ your opponent and-"

" _I get it!"_ Katara panted as soon as she was able to speak. "I get it! I just can't-"

"You're just not listening," the prince replied hastily. "How am I supposed to deal with you if you don't even trust what I say?"

"Well, then maybe you shouldn't _deal with_ _me_!"

This sounded entirely like Katara, and not Kahn. She pressed her lips together.

"This is my job, and I'm doing the same for everyone," The prince narrowed his eyes, and Katara felt her face heat. "Now out of my sight. I want you to repeat those forms a hundred times before sunset as a punishment."

Katara sighed in furious frustration, but she didn't disregard the order. She poured herself into those bending sequences, ignoring the weakness in her exhausted muscles.

It was one of those afternoons when Prince Zuko would test their ability and progress in bending, and every time, she felt like she'd made a step back in his eyes. The humiliation would only fuel that increasing, exasperated, blind urge to hit harder, as powerful as it was vain.

Vague instructions sometimes echoed in her thoughts.

 _You're not feeling the water, Kahn,_ Master Pakku would reprimand. _Water, its true essence—it flows, it's always flowing and transforming, in all its forms—even when it strikes deadly. It's not about power or strength, it's about control. Precision. Versatility. Constance._

 _Control._ It seemed so clear in words; but in Katara's position, nothing was under control.

And maybe, that was the prince's fault, too.

Katara realized her dislike for him kept growing into something irrational, and deeply rooted.

From dawn till night, Prince Zuko wore the same limited range of expressions. He brought his pale face, his tensing jaw, his golden eyes all around the camp, silent as much as possible, never missing a thing; his hoarse voice resonated at any time it was needed—to give advice or information, and do ordinary administration—even though, if one had to be honest, everything he said always sounded like he was giving the most strict orders, in the most arrogant way.

His words were rarely harsh, or insulting, at least not in a conscious way. But no matter what, he always talked in that _demanding_ tone, with a glint in his eyes that seemed to rightfully keep him up on some sort of pedestal—the glint of _royalty_ , clearly something one can never subtract from their manners.

He had been appointed as their general and nothing more than that, true; and as such, he was supposed to use his authority. But Katara saw—and perceived—that kind of disdain, that little had to do with ranking.

And this, especially if coming from the prince of the Fire Nation—this Katara couldn't stand.

Katara knew other Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe soldiers shared her feeling, in regards of the young prince. His surly ways and bad temper had quickly made him unpopular amongst the troops; and it could only get worse, since he would often react to insubordination a little too heatedly.

But really, other than that, Prince Zuko was _impenetrable_ , most of the time; which was what really set Katara off about him—and in some way, kept her (and not just her) from paying any kind of authentic respect to him. He often looked contrite, painfully focused, on something that was most likely beyond anything about his soldiers, that camp, that war. Even when he watched benders practice in silence, judging from the corners of his eyes, Katara couldn't decipher that tense look on his face, as he passed her by.

And the more she observed him, the less she knew.

How upsetting.

Sokka didn't understand.

"I don't mind Zuko," he admitted one night, as they were having dinner in Katara's tent. "He might not have the _sweetest_ ways, but I've learned a few things from him and-"

"The _sweetest_ ways? Have you seen the way he looks at everyone like... like..."

" _Like the spineless pathetic lot he thinks we are_ ," Sokka recited like one who had heard those words a hundred times. "Look, I think you're just frustrated, Katara. I understand you don't like him. Why can't you just ignore him and focus on... staying alive instead?"

"You want me to ignore the guy I'm supposed to obey to?" she snapped, then sighed. "I know I should. I just... I can't get off my mind that I should be taking orders from _him_ , now." She exhaled slowly and stared at her hands. "I can't stand these people, Sokka. I've tried."

"You wouldn't have had to if you had just _followed the rules,_ " Sokka shrugged, accurately avoiding Katara's flaming gaze. "Just saying. Listen," he sighed, "maybe you should just let go of your prejudice, Katara. Years have passed; it's in the past. We've been living in peace with the Fire Nation for some time now; they have paid the price for their crimes. It's hard to think for me, too... but I guess the world needs to move on. We need to make an effort."

Katara had just nodded thoughtfully, not knowing how to reply. Her brother's reasoning sounded correct, but not convincing enough, she felt when she was left alone that night.

After a few attempts, Sokka had given up trying to make her leave her tent, during the couple hours between dinner and curfew. For some strange reason Katara ignored, among others, he'd ended up befriending Haru, the young earthbender she had run into on her first day, who in turn had brought Jet along—Sokka didn't seem to get along with him all that much (competition, Katara suspected), but at the end of the day, he seemed to enjoy some boy talk under the stars. Katara was not sure if drinking was involved.

However, she didn't feel like sharing his newfound company. First of all, she wanted to stay away from Jet as much as she could (Sokka insisted the reason was that she blushed whenever he was around—what a child he could be at times). On another note, she feared that spending her spare time with other soldiers could possibly give her away. Pretending required too much precious energy during the training hours already; Katara did not want to face any more challenges for the moment.

Most of all—but this she wouldn't admit too overtly—she needed her time alone to escape that constant feeling of being an intruder _._ For as much as others could be deceived, she felt she had some boundaries she wanted to respect.

And, predictably, others barely noticed her, or deliberately ignored her.

So, in a couple weeks, Katara had grown to be an outcast in the camp. Except for a few times when she went for the company of the two weird swampmen, and for her brother, she hardly spoke to anyone.

One day Katara realized she was internally grateful Sokka had been foolish enough to follow her—despite everything that would imply.

* * *

The moon was just passing its half.

The day had come for benders to make an official demonstration of the abilities they had achieved, so that Prince Zuko and his secretariat could report the progress to their superiors, and possibly wait for new orders.

Katara waited in line with the other waterbenders of her class; Master Pakku stood in front, looking down on them.

She was feeling ready. The day before, after hours of traning, she had finally managed to make ice spears, and even though her aim could use some practice—as Pakku didn't fail to remark—she kept a positive attitude.

Soon enough, the prince came, followed by that Earth Kingdom ambassador, Long Feng—Katara had noticed how his sinister presence was constantly, invariably looming behind the prince's shoulder, always busy studying in silence the behaviour of the young man—except for the rare times he deemed it necessary to intervene.

Katara disliked him nearly as much as she disliked the prince.

Pakku started ordering them to show the combined forms, and Katara joined the rest of the waterbenders along the sequence she had by now memorized. The group stepped back and forth simoultaneously, their arms flowing gracefully; their collective movement directed a massive wave of water that hovered upon their heads for a while, only to eventually smash against the rocks in the distance.

Then prince Zuko nodded and raised an open hand.

Pakku started calling random soldiers for an individual demonstration.

Katara felt her heart bumping as she hoped and feared the master would pick her. She feared, because it would have been a chance to expose herself, and she wanted to avoid that kind of situation as much as possible. She hoped, and this was more of a vague feeling inside, because this time around she believed she had an opportunity to redeem herself.

One by one, she watched her fellows perform uncertainly and spar under Prince Zuko's steely gaze, one by one—then she saw Master Pakku turn. He seemed to ponder for a moment before he lifted his chin in her direction.

"Kahn. Come ahead."

Katara felt her heart pound. She obeyed.

"Get ready," Pakku murmured, positioning himself a few steps away from her.

Katara took a deep breath and moved her arms in what she hoped looked like the purest waterbending fashion.

A quick movement of her wrist, and the water coming from her flasks turned into a single spear and darted fast in the direction of her master. It faltered just a little on its way, then collapsed abruptly at a slight gesture of Pakku's hand.

"Don't lose focus. Attack _and_ defend," Pakku snapped, and Katara felt ready, avoiding other gazes than that of Pakku. "Fast."

Sooner than she wanted, a hundred ice needles raced through the air in her direction. Her brain lost control of her hand, only a few needles fell, and she closed her eyes.

It took one second.

A strong push on her shoulder, and Katara fell hard on the ground, her vision blurred, her skin burning from a sudden heat; and she crawled back as fast as she could, on instinct, her hands protecting her face.

Then, everything settled back down. Every face was pointed at her.

She jumped up and rapidly fixed her clothes, staring at the prince.

"That was not necessary."

"You were _not_ focused," Pakku intervened, without a blink of an eye.

"But-"

"Do you think anyone's going to spare you when they've got the chance to _kill_ you?" the prince asked sullenly. "This is not a game anymore."

"It's not worth your breath, Prince Zuko," Pakku sentenced. "I've wasted hours with kids the likes of this. They never listen."

Katara wanted to say something, but whatever words she had found died in her throat. So she just turned her back on them and walked away.

 _Just like Dad,_ she heard someone reply from the inside.

* * *

The moon was only a thin sickle away from the end of its cycle.

The incident with Pakku and the prince marked a decisive turning point.

The night she had left home, she had thought she could make it. Katara _knew_ she could fight—she had always known, always wanted to. It didn't matter if she had to change her name.

But now... The thoughts she had despised and rejected before were now growing louder in her head and becoming impossible to ignore. Was she really _strong_ enough? Was she really letting the beliefs of people like Pakku prevail on herself? Had it been a mistake to try to prove them wrong?

Katara didn't yet want to answer.

The training was stressful for everyone. Most of the soldiers were around Sokka's age and, like him, had never fought before. The days were long and hard, under the sun of a blooming spring that was turning out to be hotter and damper than usual; they had too much to learn, and too little time. And they were scared.

According to Sokka, there had come no notice of victory from the main troops, and the possibilty of actually facing the enemy on a war field had appeared sharp and clear in the horizon, for the first time.

Prince Zuko was extremely taut. He trained and sparred with even more vigour, but even he had changed. He was more thoughtful and even more elusive than before. Except for basic orders, he barely spoke to anyone other than his uncle and his conselour. Even Long Feng's invisible hold on the prince and the soldiers had gotten even more stringent than it used to be.

There was this silent awareness, a crisp in the air, a heaviness in the bones that was never mentioned, of something about to come.

* * *

That was supposed to be just another day; just another one of those one-on-one matches between masters and recruits; and Katara could call herself lucky it wasn't prince Zuko, but his uncle she was facing.

"Don't waste time when you're vulnerable," said the old man calmly, waiting for her to stand up.

Katara was tired and she barely listened. She just responded to her opponent's powerful charges, mechanically.

"Your defence is not going to work if you don't stay focused _,_ " a familiar, scornful voice spoke from behind the General. "That's not even a fight. You're just jerking around."

"Zuko," General Iroh frowned, "I think it's enough training for today, anyway. The sun is almost down already." He gestured to the few people that were walking across the plain and disappeared down the slope that declined gently, caressed by a dim yellow light.

"He'll get dinner when he deserves it. Let me handle this for a while," the prince insisted, though his voice had some sort of a pleading inkling to it.

As she watched the General walk away with a sigh, Katara kept biting her cheek, suddenly uncomfortable in the now deserted field. It was only the two of them. She stared at his scarred ear and the back of his pale neck with her lips pursed tight, not making a move.

He took a while before he turned to face her in a firebending stance. "What are you doing with your arms? _Fight._ "

The first fire blows came out of Zuko's relentless hands faster than her water did; and she found herself surrounded with flames and hot fumes that blurred her vision, and made it hard to think straight.

It was not her first time fighting with the prince, but there was no one around, daylight was gone and maybe it was just Katara's fantasy—but he was not just _sparring_ this time, or so it seemed.

The fire had completely enveloped her, it ran fast on the ground around her feet, making her eyes burn, her breath tickle, and she could barely see her opponent—though she knew he had not stopped, how could he not stop yet?—or even feel control her own body. Dazed and nearly unthinking, Katara confusedly felt she had never hated anyone so intensely, and that was probably what made her arms circle and wave frantically in an attempt to fight back.

The more flames she could turn off, the hotter they burned when they came roaring back at her. Katara's water whips could hardly make it out of the fire barrage around her, now that she felt her head reel faster—but no, all that mattered now was that the cough was cutting her breath. Every fibre of her being was burning—at this point, she was unsure if it was only the feeling of the heat, or if flames were actually skimming her eyes already; everything was too bright to look at. She could hear some blurred words being yelled from a distance, but could not get a hold of what they meant. It didn't matter, one could easily guess— _fight back. Do something. Be a_ _real man._ Wasn't it?

Instead, she did nothing. _Is this going to kill me?,_ the sudden realization echoed faintly in the back of her mind. _There is fire. There is only fire._ She closed her eyes.

 _Is this how they killed her?_

Katara's arms widened at the explosion of her own far-away scream.

A powerful blast ran across her and then exploded all around. Her knees bent under her weight—she inhaled the fresh air she had now reconquered, between violent coughing.

She unclosed her eyelids. Prince Zuko's dark silhouette was looming over her, standing against the darkened sky.

"I told you to _fight."_ The same old words resonated dull, deaf in their obstinate recurring, through the blood pumping in Katara's ears. "What's wrong with you? It's always as though you're never even trying. You just _let go."_ Katara looked up on him. She wanted to say something, she guessed, but her tongue felt tied, dried out of words.

He gave her a last glance before he turned his back on her and walked away. Katara narrowed her eyes.

"You wanna know what's wrong with _me_?"

Katara's rough, barely recognizable voice rang through her own ears. She managed to stand up, as the prince half-turned to look at her.

"You wanna know what's wrong with _everyone_ here? Since you're too blind to see it by yourself, _Your Majesty,_ " she yelled, and it was Katara's voice pouring out from her lungs, as finally escaping after a long time. She was expecting an interruption; it didn't come at all. "You're always talking about respect and honor, but when it comes to your soldiers, you seem to have _no idea_ what any of that means."

"Enough with this." The prince finally spoke, barely hiding the flash that ran across his traits. "Now take a breath," he ordered, turning away, "and try again."

"No," Katara replied sharply. "I'm going to talk and _you're_ going to hear me. You see? You're so caught up in that _divine right_ of yours to even notice you were _killing me_!"

"I didn't kill you."

"Well, you almost did," Katara heard her voice yell.

If she had seen everything from the outside, she wouldn't have recognized herself.

Zuko stood still, his back still on her, his expression hidden.

"You're just like your people," Katara resumed (as she grew stronger with every word pronounced), "proud and oh, so full of yourself, you're willing to trample on anything or anyone to get what you want! And you dare talk about honor, presuming to be an example! You, a _prince,_ a _boy_ who never had to struggle to get anything—you who are well used to have everything condoned, _any time_! Am I wrong?"

Any other moment, Katara would have held such words back before they flew out of her tongue. But not now. Now, she just wanted to _hurt._

"You don't know what you're talking about." Zuko's sharp, unexpected answer made Katara's confidence falter. In a way, he was right: she didn't know at all. "You're mistaken. I'm not the enemy. That war is over."

"Stop repeating that. Believe me, it's not," she burst in a hurry, her voice suddenly low and hoarse. A long pause followed. She struggled to swallow, before she decided to set the words free. "The Fire Nation took my mother away from me."

The prince still hid his face, and stared ahead in front of him. Katara didn't mind him. The words that had poured out of her mouth were giving her somewhat of an ache, as though they didn't belong in the light of day, and their meaning was now still running through her body like a jolt of lightning.

"So don't come talk to me about peace. The war is not over. This war is _never_ over."

She had struggled to get these words together, to get what was left of herself together. Now she was staring blankly somewhere before her eyes, her face covered with her hands, forgetful someone was even listening.

" _I'm sorry._ " Katara didn't want to look at him, but she had to. " _That's something we have in common._ "

A silence followed. Katara stared at the prince for what seemed to be a long time—again she was trying to recognize the shapes of the ghosts hiding behind his eyes of gold—and this time she thought she could really see something move. He was standing still, fists clenched, unmoving, but he wasn't looking at her.

Katara found herself wondering a lot about the words she had to pick.

"I'm sorry about what I said before," she said eventually, her tone suddenly poised again. "I should have thought before speaking."

Zuko said nothing, expcept he moved his head slightly in a nod. The air was tense, as the distance that separated them seemed now awkwardly uncomfortable, in many ways—too wide, though it could not be otherwise.

He turned almost completely, and looked straight at her.

"Maybe I should have been more careful."

Katara blinked, caught off guard with that last bit. She wanted to say something. _It's okay. It doesn't matter anymore._ But the words died in her mouth, and a silence followed.

"Do you see the moon's missing slice?" he asked abruptly, pointing at the dark blue sky.

Katara nodded.

"That means the wait is almost over." Zuko looked at her, his expression was back to its usual unintelligible frown. "It's been nearly one month since we're here. There's no time to lose. If the main troops fail-" he paused, and his jaw tensed, " _if the main troops fail,_ we need to be ready to go. We'll be the world's last chance."

Katara nodded again. Although those words meant nothing new, Katara knew that was his own way to warn her. And he had succeded.

"I will try harder."

"You don't have to do this for me, Kahn," Zuko said, as he walked by her and passed by. "You're just _one_ man. An army can do without one man."

"Are you telling me I should go home?" she asked gloomily, following him with her eyes as he walked away.

He stopped and turned partially; Katara stared at the scarred side of his face.

"No," he said, then, "I never give up without a fight."


End file.
